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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


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A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER  ONE  JANUARY  15,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Copyright,    1907, 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


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Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 


—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


INTRODUCTORY   NOTE. 

This  pamphlet  edition  of  "  Stage  Affairs  "  contains 
fifteen  numbers;  they  will  appear  serially  on  Tues- 
days of  each  week  from  January  15  to  April  23,  1907 
(inclusive).  In  earnestly  soliciting  attention  to  the 
opinions  offered  herein,  my  chief  credential  that 
might  seem  to  warrant  such  entreaty,  is  the  accru- 
ment  of  more  than  sixteen  years  of  intimate,  active 
association  and  critical  observance  of  the  people  and 
conditions  of  the  theatre  in  America;  their  aims, 
tendencies  and  resultant  effects;  and  with  a  whole- 
some desire  to  justly  praise  all  that  which  is  good, 
and  to  modestly  suggest  what  (in  my  opinion)  would 
serve  as  a  remedial  adjustment  for  that  which  is  evil. 
This  I  shall  do  with  sound  conviction,  with  profound 
respect,  and  an  ardent,  optimistic  enthusiasm  for  the 
stage  of  the  future,  and  truly  innocent  of  any  ill- 
disposed  intent  to  assail  and  belie  the  established 
creeds  and  managerial  methods  of  its  institutions  and 
their  incumbents  of  to-day.  Any  critical  comment 
seeking  to  interestedly  regulate  such  early  convictions 
(for  the  author  is  widely  awake  to  the  detriment  ef- 

160045 


-2- 

fected  to  initiatory  writers  through  an  exuberancy  of 
ideas  and  diction)  will  be  considered  a  mark  of  be- 
nevolent attention,  and  truly  a  favor.  And  whatso- 
ever herein  might  gain  some  support  from  any  stable 
source,  in  thinking  to  notice  such,  would  tend  only 
to  more  speedily  correct  any  convictions  that  more 
able  and  experienced  judges  were  indulgent  enough 
to  adversely,  with  honesty,  remark  upon. 

ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


I. 

THE   PLAYWRIGHT. 

THE  VITAL   IMPORTANCE  OF  HIS   COMMISSION. 

The  playwright,  the  manager,  the  actor.  If  the 
theatre  would  wish  to  exist  for  the  highest  fulfilment 
of  its  proper  mission,  and  remain  in  an  indissoluble 
state  of  stable  worth,  the  above-mentioned  primal,  co- 
essential  forces  in  co-efficient  form,  must  exist  in  a 
co-harmonious  plan  of  superior  workmanship.  Each 
one  is  highly  necessary  to  the  other;  but  the  play- 
wright is  the  very  heart  of  this  tri-essence,  and  should 
(its  other  co-essential  factors  working  all  in  trin- 
itarian  confederacy)  pulsate  into  vigorous  life  and 
health  the  substance  which  this  vital  union  shapes, 
—  the  institution  of  the  theatre.  The  condition  of 
playwright  is  the  vital  fluid  flowing  throughout  this 
substance.  The  state  of  healthiness  or  impoverish- 
ment of  this  fluidity  manifests  and  determines  the 
condition  of  the  substance  it  sustains.  The  condition 


-3- 

of  the  theatre  is  soundest  when  the  heart-essence,  the 
playwright,  maintains  it  by  the  highest  degree  of 
purity. 

And  in  what  one  particular  element  is  preserved 
the  greatest  purity  and  lasting  strength  of  the  drama  ? 
In  its  diction;  in  the  intellectuality,  elegance  and 
effectualness  of  its  language.  While  a  play  should 
present  a  theme  worthy  of  consideration,  sanely 
founded,  methodically  constructed,  thoughtfully  pro- 
moted, interestingly,  entertainingly  and  absorbingly 
pursued,  brought  adroitly  and  forcibly  to  a  logical 
climax,  then  finally  its  plot  and  sub- plots  concisely, 
unflaggingly  and  clearly  determined,  —  nevertheless, 
—  as  necessary  and  important  as  these  stipulations 
are  to  the  best  condition  of  play-writing,  they  do 
not  attain  for  the  author  (even  when  apparent  to  an 
exceptional  degree)  a  condition  of  real  worth  in  the 
art  of  play-writing  if  he  fails  of  intellectual,  elegant 
and  effective  diction. 

The  playwright  may  entertain  lofty,  beautiful,  fan- 
ciful thoughts  and  images,  he  may  be  able  to  quite 
sufficiently  suggest  such  images  through  the  mechan- 
ical resources  of  pageantry  and  stage  effectualness 
generally;  but  no  mere  pantomime  nor  mechanical 
device  can  ever  supplant  the  necessity  of  a  corre- 
sponding loftiness  of  diction  to  truthfully  reveal  any 
high  thoughts  purposed.  The  playwright  may  be  able 
to  picture,  and  reproduce  with  faithfulness,  the  ordi- 
nary scenes  of  life;  but,  if  we  are  to  gain  in  the 
rightful  mission  of  the  stage,  higher  thoughts  and 
better  life,  unless  the  playwright  can  exalt  his  images 
to  something  superior,  and  sustain  in  his  diction  a 
corresponding  fitness,  the  stage  had  better  totally 
surrender  any  intention  of  a  proper  beneficence  to 


-4- 

mankind,  than  to  proclaim  and  champion  such  senti- 
ment, and  yet  blemish  its  worthiness  by  permitting 
the  intrusion  of  such  miserly  mocksters  as  find  sanc- 
tion from  its  careless  guardians,  both  screened  by 
a  blind  understanding  of  what  the  public  wants.  And 
it  is  in  the  ability  of  the  playwright  to  translate  his 
best  mentality  into  exalted  diction  that  shall  secure 
the  best  condition  of  the  essential  force  of  which  he 
is  the  vital  factor.  The  language,  the  diction  of  a 
play,  whether  read  or  listened  to,  is  the  ever  pre- 
dominant force  that  seizes  and  holds  the  attention. 

And  it  is  in  the  exaltedness  of  diction,  the  attain- 
ment of  it,  that  we  alone  can  hope  for  the  best 
condition  of  histrionic  art.  It  is  the  force  and  power 
of  that  diction  that  prompts  and  compels  the  greatest 
accomplishments  of  the  actor.  It  makes  possible  all 
the  higher,  the  embodied  variety  of  facial  expression 
and  gesture  that  such  diction  must  naturally  contain. 
Even  in  the  matter  of  common  pantomime  it  is  a 
language  that  prompts  and  compels  it.  The  fact  that 
pantomime,  inarticulate  language,  has  never,  nor  can 
it  ever,  transcend  the  importance  of  diction,  articulate 
language,  in  the  exposition  of  a  play,  argues  for  the 
essential  need  of  playwrights  distinguished  in  the 
superiority  of  their  diction.  To  regulate  and  utilize 
thoughts  and  ideas  for  the  purposes  of  pantomime  is 
a  matter  of  calculative  mechanism.  The  material  of 
this  storage  force  to  be  sent  through  the  organic 
regulators  to  become  pantomime,  inarticulate  language, 
is,  most  generally,  of  very  ordinary  importance.  It 
is  not  difficult  to  find  competent  regulators  for  such. 
But  when  this  vital  storage  force  transcends  to 
grandeur  and  sublimity,  no  regulators  can  be  found  to 
fully  sustain  its  tremendousness  through  the  mere 


-5- 

channels  of  pantomime  alone,  not  only  because  of 
their  failure  often  to  completely  or  sufficiently  under- 
stand the  highest  purposes  of  such  mental  conceal- 
ments, but  because  of  the  vital  predominance  of  the 
language  itself  over  all  other  conditions  that  go 
towards  the  making  of  a  play.  It  must  follow  that 
only  in  an  intelligent,  elegant  and  effectual  grasp  and 
exposition  of  the  diction  of  a  play  can  be  found  the 
test  of  an  actor's  greatest  endurance.  A  system  of 
acting  based  on  pantomime  is  fundamentally  wrong. 
It  sets  in  action  the  agents  to  emphasize,  whereas 
they  should  be  trained  to  control,  emotions.  No  actor 
was  ever  great  who  was  not  proficient  in  a  mental 
grasp  and  exposition  of  his  native  tongue  or  the  lan- 
guage of  his  adoption.  An  emigrant  just  off  a  steamer 
might  indicate  in  very  good  pantomime  his  wishes ; 
but,  even  in  his  own  tongue,  he  could  only  inelegantly 
express  himself.  More  care  and  attention  should  be 
given  to  the  development  of  a  high  importance  of 
diction  in  play-writing. 

I  admit  a  purposely  intentioned  exaggeration,  but 
notwithstanding  contend  that  a  most  visible  mod- 
icum of  justifiable  aptness  must  be  seen  in  the  state- 
ment that  too  many  authors  of  to-day  write  their 
plays  during  the  progress  of  a  rehearsal,  and  even 
of  its  performances.  A  noted  playwright  who  has 
recently  visited  America  and  lectured  at  some  of  her 
leading  universities,  speaks  wisely  and  vitally  in  urg- 
ing the  publication  of  plays.  This  would  be  of  benefit 
to  the  public,  of  course,  of  vast  importance  to  the 
studious  actor  devoted  to  his  art,  and  its  advantages 
tending  towards  a  better  condition  of  critical  review 
would  be  manifold.  But  there  is  yet  another  reason 
why  such  a  condition  should  exist.  For  the  sake  of 


-6- 

the  playwright  himself  and  the  exaltation  of  his  art. 
The  exposition  of  his  diction  would  serve  as  an  im- 
petus to  excel  in  that  essential.  It  would  wonderfully 
help  to  correct  and  improve  the  vital  force  of  the 
playwright's  task,  the  purity  of  the  diction  through 
which  he  manifests  his  types  and  ideas.  Many  authors 
will  say  here,  "You  can't  tell  anything  about  a  play 
till  you  have  rehearsed  it " ;  then  when  you  are  re- 
hearsing they  will  say,  "You  can't  tell  till  you  have 
tried  it."  And  when  you  have  tried  it,  what  is  the 
test  of  its  fitness  to  survive?  The  immediate  condi- 
tion of  public  approval  that  has  been  incited  and  main- 
tained by  the  various  mediums  of  modern  advertise- 
ment? The  verdict  of  the  press  for  or  against?  The 
significance  of  a  long  run?  And  many  other  stip- 
ulations entering  into  the  capriciousness  of  the  public 
and  ingenuity  of  managerial  skill?  No,  —  the.  test 
of  endurance  in  any  play  is  the  hold  and  respect  it 
will  command  when  you  take  it  down  from  the  shelf 
to  read;  when  its  diction  contains  some  quality  of 
permanence.  That  is  the  vitality  of  any  play,  and  I 
believe  that  that  is  the  first  reason  why  they  should 
be  published.  That  would  necessitate  a  state  of  prep- 
aration, and  compel  care  in  the  matter  of  diction.  If 
the  playwright  is  doubtful  of  the  value  of  some  of 
the  situations,  effects  and  "  business "  he  has  em- 
ployed, he  should  not  hesitate  to  confer  with  some 
master  in  that  department.  The  playwright  should 
seek  also  the  critic  in  the  preparation  of  his  compo- 
sition. I  mean  the  truly  distinguished  individual  of 
that  craft.  One  of  the  great  impediments  to  the  at- 
tainment of  exaltation  in  stage  affairs  to-day  is  in 
the  alarming  unconcerned  state  of  unpreparedness  in 
all  its  conditions.  When  such  a  condition  is  altogether 


-7- 

apparent  with  the  playwright,  the  vital  force  of  the 
stage,  it  necessarily  follows  that  all  adjunctive  forces 
must  suffer  from  the  stagnancy  caused  by  their  pre- 
dominant governing  power. 

Not  long  ago  there  appeared  a  reported  interview 
wherein  an  American  playwright,  one  truly  enjoying 
marked  prominence  and  profit  from  his  works,  com- 
plained (in  words  to  this  effect,  at  least)  that  he  had 
to  endure  no  small  amount  of  criticism  from  fellow 
associates  of  his  craft  because  he  treated  the  matter 
of  play-writing  as  such  a  serious  one ;  his  critics,  fur- 
thermore, dwelling  on  the  comparative  inconsequence 
of  the  condition  of  play-writing  in  America  to-day. 
There  is  abundant  proof  of  the  truth  of  that  reported 
assertion.  We  have  a  few  very  clever  writers  of 
smart  plays.  That  cannot  be  denied.  But  their  trivial 
designs  and  reckless  diction  (though  often  of  mo- 
mentary exhilaration  and  pleasing  entertainment) 
would  seem  to  strengthen  any  argument  purporting 
an  inclination,  or  a  determined  intention  on  the  part 
of  the  author,  not  to  treat  the  quality  of  his  com- 
mission, or  the  importance  of  his  mission,  with  any 
commendable  seriousness.  It  is  either  that  or  a  lack 
of  proper  effort;  and  perhaps  an  inability  to  rise 
above  the  medium  of  prim  mediocrity.  There  would 
seem  to  be  ample  reason  to  suspect  the  latter  weak- 
ness, for  in  the  few  attempts  made  by  these  writers 
to  construct  on  some  theme  of  vital  importance,  they 
signally  fail,  not  only  in  maintaining  the  theme  itself, 
but  in  their  endeavor  to  fittingly  dignify  with  robes 
of  worthy  diction  the  form  that  they  supply.  In 
America  to-day  there  are  many  who  are  skilled  in 
the  practice  of  play  building,  perhaps,  but  their  diction 
is  seldom  above  the  medium  of  colloquialism,  and  often 


g 

descends  to  the  plane  of  commonplace  conversation, 
and  not  infrequently  to  the  condition  of  unlearned, 
ill-mannered  talk. 

The  playwright  who  is  not  heedful  of  the  unlimited 
benefits  he  is  empowered  to  bestow  upon,  and  the 
real  usefulness  of  the  service  he  owes  to  and  holds 
the  authority  to  exercise  over  his  public,  can  never 
rightfully  hope  for  permanent  and  valuable  profit  to 
that  public  or  to  himself.  The  playwright  has  a  great 
commission !  He  who  usurps  that  trust  and  debases  it 
with  the  substitution  of  criminal  counterfeit,  —  the 
outgrowth  of  cunning  ignorance,  misdirected  energy, 
and  wilful  plagiarism,  —  threatens  public  decorum, 
poisons  its  taste,  and  stagnates  its  higher  instincts  and 
nature.  The  playwright  at  best  is  the  clergyman  in 
the  consecrated  seclusion  of  his  workroom.  The  stage, 
to  fulfil  a  mission  greater  than  does  any  other  in- 
stitution save  that  of  the  church,  must  be  rescued 
from  the  clutches  of  irregular  commercialism,  illiter- 
acy and  charlatanry.  It  must  invite,  promote  and 
maintain  a  status  of  high  import.  And  this  status 
must  be  attained  by  —  and  when  once  assured  always 
receive  —  the  unswerving  support  of  that  co-efficient, 
co-harmonious  threefold  working  force  —  manager, 
playwright,  actor. 

The  playwright's  labor  finds  expression  through  the 
co-operate,  adjunctive  mediums  of  stage  manager, 
actor,  singer,  scenic  artist,  musician,  and  the  art 
mechanics  of  the  theatre.  These  offices  are  respon- 
sible ones,  and  the  discharging  of  their  functions  has 
much  to  do  with  making  or  marring  the  discourse 
of  the  playwright.  We  should  hold  them  high  and 
follow  them  honestly,  but  none  of  these  adjuncts 
should  be  so  lavishly  employed  as  to  predominate, 


-9- 

darken  or  impede  the  play;  they  should  accompany » 
illumine  and  hasten  it.  Can  we  to-day  truly  say  that 
this  is  often  so?  What  commission  does  the  play- 
wright receive  from  the  manager  ?  Does  the  manager 
say,  "  Write  me  a  play  of  worthy  theme,  noble  pur- 
pose, literary  elegance,  dignified  personages,  pleasing, 
wholesome  comedy,  action,  and  so  on,  then  when  you 
have  completed  the  mental  conception  we  will  select 
some  pretty  colors  of  human  type  to  express  your 
image  within  an  appropriate  frame  "  ?  No,  he  more 
likely  says,  "I  have  some  pretty  colors  and  a  handsome 
frame ;  patch  me  up  a  picture  " ;  or,  "  Here  is  a  popu- 
lar novel ;  pick  out  the  glaring  threads  and  sew  them 
into  a  single  garb."  The  manager  himself  sometimes 
presumes  this  mission  ;  the  actor  also.  The  mediocre 
clergyman,  the  .sensational  preacher,  rushes  in  to  fill 
the  vacuum  unpossessed  of  worthy  matter.  He  sel- 
dom maintains  the  meanest  idealism  of  his  pulpit. 
With  the  adjuncts  that  the  theatre  supplies,  he  should 
vembellish  and  exalt  his  context.  Then  again  the 
newspaper  journalist  invades  the  field.  He  holds  some 
uses  that  the  manager  is  not  unmindful  of.  It  is  quite 
evident  that  the  fraternity  of  the  press  will  make 
some  sympathetic  response;  that  is  altogether  wrong 
if  the  material  under  consideration  be  not  worthy. 
The  playwright's  is  an  art  by  itself!  And  if  there 
be  men  and  women  desirous  of  preparing,  studying 
and  finishing  it  as  such,  what  hope  lies  before  to  in- 
spire them  or  help  at  hand  to  maintain  them,  when 
such  impudent  usurpation  of  their  proper  commissions 
confronts  them? 

Furthermore,  with  stage  affairs  in  America  to-day, 
it  is  not  generally  the  play,  but  the  player,  that  re- 
ceives the  first  consideration.  If  this  player  were 


-10- 

most  always  proficient  in  his  art,  we  would  not  so 
much  complain;  or  were  he  true  to  a  proper  expo- 
sition of  its  best  purposes.  But  such  is  not  often 
the  case.  This  player  rarely  is  selected  because  of 
his  exceptional  talent,  but  most  frequently  because  of 
some  youthful  charm  of  person,  extraordinary  mold 
of  beauty;  sometimes  through  the  highest  degree  of 
creative  taste  and  fashion  in  dress  and  make-up; 
then  again  through  some  natural,  unhelpable  pe- 
culiarity of  speech  or  manner;  and  still  again  by 
possession  of  hereditary  inheritance;  and  in  a  few 
instances  through  the  enjoyment  of  an  income  (or 
means  at  hand  through  other  channels)  to  buy  a 
vehicle  in  which  to  parade  his  pretence.  To  fit  any  one 
or  all,  of  these  forms  with  tinseled  robes  to  hide  their 
deformities  and  immerge  the  drifting  parasites  in  tow, 
is,  in  the  general  conduct  of  affairs  to-day,  the  en- 
forced commission  of  the  one  who  furnishes  enter- 
tainment for  the  theatre's  patrons.  This  is  affording 
sensual  sustenance  to  the  prodigal,  and  starving  the 
home.  The  manager  orders  it,  the  playwright  pro- 
vides it,  the  actor  exhibits  it,  and  the  public  buys 
and  partakes  of  it. 

Wherein  lies  the  remedy?  Not  with  the  public, 
surely.  Because  a  child  prefers  salads  and  pastries 
to  substantial,  wholesome  diet  is  poor  excuse  for  giv- 
ing it  to  him.  But  he  will  take  it  if  you  are  so 
unwise  as  to  indulge  him.  To  develop  and  preserve 
a  healthy  physical  condition  in  mankind  is  vitally 
important.  At  times,  if  the  ingredients  be  pure  and 
well  prepared,  no  special  harm  can  follow  in  allow- 
ing the  child  a  judicious  amount  of  salad  and  pastry. 
But  he  should  be  made  to  prefer  and  partake  of  the 
wholesome  first.  That  is  a  duty  of  his  providers. 


-11- 

We  are  all  children  of  the  nation.  We  wish  to  de- 
velop and  preserve  for  it  a  mental  wholesomeness 
as  well.  To  do  that  properly  we  must  develop  and 
preserve  a  preference  for  what  is  good  and  substan- 
tial. That  condition  apparent  in  the  individual  sus- 
tains the  totality.  But  be  assured  too  many  of  us 
will  prefer  salad  and  pastry  if  you  so  indulge  us. 
Here  also  it  is  the  providers  who  are  responsible. 
With  them  it  should  be  a  duty  to  provide  wholesome- 
ness  if  we  would  develop  and  preserve  in  mankind 
a  condition  of  mental  healthiness.  Now  and  again, 
if  the  ingredients  be  pure  and  well  prepared,  a  little 
salad  and  pastry  is  a  good  thing  even  as  a  mental 
diet. 

And  so  the  manager  and  actor  must  realize  and 
acknowledge,  the  former  his  true  mission  of  the  in- 
stitution he  conducts,  the  latter  a  reverence  for  the 
art  he  professes.  Then  both  should  confess  and  main- 
tain a  fidelity  and  support  to  the  playwright  desirous 
of  fulfilling  his  offices  through  a  determination  to 
excel  by  devoted  energy  and  through  emulation  of 
the  best  and  highest  that  have  preceded  him.  And  at 
last,  these  three  primal  factors  working  in  co-effi- 
cient, co-harmonious  union  establishes  a  standard,  and 
at  once  compels  and  holds  the  desired  following,  ful- 
filling in  truth  the  wholesome  aims  of  the  vital  trust 
they  form,  —  the  theatre.  No  one  really  wants  an 
impure  if  he  can  have  a  pure  article.  Once  he  has 
been  enabled  to  distinguish  the  latter,  he  won't  take 
the  former.  If  the  manager  were  a  man  of  integ- 
rity, he  wouldn't  order  it.  If  the  playwright  wrote 
for  the  dignity  of  his  art,  for  the  intellectual  purity, 
moral  soundness  of  his  great  charge,  he  wouldn't 
provide  it.  If  the  actor  regarded  the  beauty  of  the 


-12- 

art  he  professes,  he  wouldn't  exhibit  it.  These  con- 
ditions respected,  it  wouldn't  be  for  sale;  the  public 
could  not  buy,  and  therefore  would  not  have  it  to 
partake  of.  The  manager  must  be  honest  in  his 
business,  the  actor  reverent  to  his  art,  the  playwright 
faithful  to  his  trust,  both  the  former  aiding  him 
with  fidelity  and  support. 

So  encourage,  honor  and  respect  the  commission 
of  the  playwright.  Seek  to  exalt  it,  that  the  skilful 
may  build  with  gold,  marble  and  oak;  not  debase  it, 
submitting  it  to  usurpation  for  the  wanton  appren- 
tice to  flout  with  foil,  dirt  and  knotted  driftwood. 
The  playwright  should  always  create  superior  types, 
except  in  cases  of  rare  characters  of  positive  dialects. 
Those  the  author  should  clearly  define,  and  the  em- 
ployment of  art  in  acting  alone  reveal.  Reproducing 
on  the  stage  conversation  as  it  happens  generally  in 
real  life  is  at  best  uninteresting,  and  often  when 
truthfully  transplaced,  compromising  to  the  best 
standard  we  might  hope  to  maintain.  This  un- 
reasoned strife  for  realistic  touches  in  stage  exhibi- 
tion is  (in  its  commonplace  indifference  and  incon- 
gruous absurdity)  impoverishing  the  vital  properties 
of  fanciful  imagery,  illusion  and  logically  propor- 
tionate theatric  effect;  conditions  that  are  the  very 
props  that  sustain  the  best  achievements  and  possi- 
bilities of  the  theatre.  A  critic  prominent  in  a  large 
theatrical  city  recently  wrote  as  follows  concerning 
a  play  strained  with  attempts  at  realistic  effectual- 
ness:  "Yet,  with  all  this  faithful  devotion  to  realism, 

the (naming  the  play)  remains  unconvincing." 

It  is  impossible  ever  to  convince  of  the  utmost  ef- 
fectualness  and  dramatic  worth  of  a  play  where 
authors  insist  on  a  reverence  for  realism  in  a  theme 


-13- 

of  common  importance  spun  into  a  dramatic  fabric 
through  the  medium  of  characters  intending  to  trans- 
place  ordinary  events  in  everyday  life. 

The  stage  of  any  nation  should  at  any  sacrifice  and 
at  all  times  maintain  the  purity  of  the  mother  tongue. 
The  theatre  should  establish  a  criterion  regarding  the 
highest  uses  of  the  language  of  the  people  it  en- 
tertains and  instructs.  As  in  a  plea  against  the 
adoption  of  a  curtailed  system  of  spelling,  so  far 
more  in  an  earnest  cry  for  a  purer  understanding 
and  a  higher  and  more  truthful  exposition  of  the 
diction  by  which  we  express  interchange  of  thought, 
let  never  the  essence  of  a  spirit  of  highest  develop- 
ment descend  to  the  demands  and  approval  of  care- 
lessness and  ignorance;  but  ever  strive  rather  to 
enable  that  condition  to  approximately  understand 
and  reach  the  utmost  exaltedness  that  such  a  spirit 
should  truly  inspire.  Have  done  with  puerile  senti- 
mentality, fetid  sensationalism,  comic  ridicule,  and 
their  misnomer,  heart  interest.  Build  us  plays  of  art 
design,  pulsating  life  and  thought  through  the  chan- 
nels of  truth,  purity  and  beauty,  all  centred  in  the 
vitality  and  nobleness  of  some  true  heart  interest. 


Number  Two  of  "Stage  Affairs,"  appearing  Jan- 
uary 22,  1907,  concerns : 

THE    BUSINESS    MANAGER. 

HIS    TRUE    MISSION. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamplilets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  mclusive 

NUMBER  Two  JANUARY  22,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE    NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs/' 


No.    1.    The  Playwright.    The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 


Copyright,  1907, 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 


—BY— 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


II. 
THE   BUSINESS    MANAGER. 

HIS   TRUE    MISSION. 

It  is  not  the  spirit  of  commercialism  itself  that  can 
ever  stand  a  menace  to  a  healthy  progression  in  art 
endeavor;  that,  to  the  contrary,  is  its  essential  bene- 
factor ;  but  it  is  the  ambitious  strife  to  arrest,  through 
loose  integrity  and  a  sacrifice  of  approximate  ideal- 
ism, the  true  mission  of  the  high  purposes  of  these 
conditions,  and  by  the  official  force  of  monopolistic 
measure  to  gain  and  hold  in  close  controlment  the 
righteous  freedom  and  natural  legality  of  individual 
endeavor  for  supremacy,  practised  through  the  lawful 
ways  and  means  of  honesty,  thrift  and  genuineness. 
To-day  we  are  fast  building  commercial  jails,  and 
stuffing  them  with  imprisoned  wealth  and  empty  noto- 
riety. And  yet  the  condition  of  equal  opportunity  has 
never  before  been  so  apparent  and  accessible  as  it 
is  to-day.  And  the  possibility  of  this  most  desirable 
condition  has  been  due  in  no  small  measure  to  the 
beneficence  of  many  individuals,  who,  in  their  quality 


—2— 

of  commercial  importance,  are  ignorantly  misjudged 
and  abused  by  the  very  ones  to  whom  they  open  a 
highway  of  plain  direction,  if  such  would  but  follow, 
and  not  transgress  its  roadway.  I  admire  and  believe 
in  an  honest  fight  for  individual  supremacy;  but  as 
bitterly  despise  the  vain  supremacy  that  finds  its  ends 
through  doubtful  integrity  and  a  disregard  for  ap- 
proximate idealism. 

In  America  to-day  very  nearly  every  condition  and 
phase  of  the  theatre  that  might  and  should  tend 
towards  placing  its  institutions  on  a  high  standard 
of  business  integrity,  establishing  a  criterion  in  the 
composition  and  exhibition  of  dramatic  material,  and 
raising  its  expositors,  the  actors,  to  a  just  significance 
of  the  title  "artist,"  —  as  one  professing  proper  skill 
in  the  true  accomplishment  of  a  fine  art,  —  nearly  all 
such  conditions  and  phases  have  become  subservient 
to,  or  are  wholly  immersed  in,  the  one  predominant 
stipulation  —  irregular  commercialism.  While,  when 
applied  to  the  legitimate  and  necessary  occupations 
in  life  (where  actual  needs  are  at  the  dictatorial  dis- 
pensation of  presumptuous  control),  such  a  condition 
is  most  deplorable  and  more  freely  open  to  censure, 
notwithstanding,  in  matters  of  art  publication  and 
exhibition  directly  affecting  the  moral  and  mental 
condition  of  the  people,  it  should  be  none  the  less 
exempt  from  just  criticism  and  an  honest  solicitation 
towards  approximate  adjustment. 

Business  is  trade ;  buying  and  selling  to  realize  a 
profit.  A  man  is  in  business  to  make  money.  The 
theatre  manager  is  no  exception  to  this  rule.  If, 
with  his  business  tact,  he  combines  artistic  tenden- 
cies and  advances  them  to  his  common  benefit,  it  is 
indeed  a  happy  condition.  But  we  look  only  for 


— 3— 

business  qualities  in  the  theatre  manager.  As  a 
business  man  conducting  a  first-class  establishment, 
buying  and  selling,  —  trading,  —  his  all-important 
requisite  should  be  integrity.  He  should  deal  in  pure, 
unadulterated  goods.  He  is  dealing  in  a  luxury,  in 
a  way,  an  extravagance.  It  is  not,  of  course,  a  ne- 
cessity strictly  speaking.  From  a  purely  business 
point  of  view  he  might  be  classed,  in  just  impor- 
tance, with  the  wine  merchant  and  the  tobacconist; 
or  any  tradesman  that,  in  an  indulgence  of  his 
wares,  in  any  degree,  such  gratification  necessarily 
takes  the  form  of  a  luxury. 

In  a  way,  the  theatre  merchant  has  the  greater 
trust.  He  has  in  charge  the  mental  and  moral  fac- 
tors of  the  public  he  sells  to.  The  wine  merchant 
and  the  tobacconist  perhaps  satisfy  first  the  appetite; 
they  furnish  first  a  sensual  feast,  which,  if  abused, 
it  is  true  might  readily  impair,  not  only  the  physical 
condition,  but  the  mental  and  moral  agents  as  welL 
The  theatre  merchant  supplies  a  feast  also;  it  is  a 
visual,  intellectual  one,  but  which,  if  offered  in  an 
impure,  adulterate  form,  might  easily  assail  the  mental 
and  moral  agents.  All  of  these  merchants  deal  in 
luxuries,  which,  if  impure  and  adulterated,  become  a 
menace  to  society,  producing  an  evil  condition.  Their 
trusts  are  solemn  ones.  Perhaps  you  will  say,  the 
wine  merchant  and  the  tobacconist  are  dealing  in 
tangible  stable  goods,  while  the  theatre  merchant 
deals  only  in  unfixed,  vacillating  material.  You  will 
not  be  altogether  wrong  at  this  day  in  saying  so. 
But  right  does  not  always  consist  of  what  is,  but 
rather  what  might  and  should  be. 

The  theatre  should  be  a  methodic  business,  not  a 
speculative  chance.  It  should  be  a  durable  play- 


house  in  the  keeping  of  honest,  staid  merchantmen, 
not  a  trifling  plaything  in  the  hands  of  feverish, 
changeable  gamesters.  Every  reputable  merchant  to 
maintain  his  custom  must  keep  his  goods  pure  and 
unadulterated.  The  merchant,  if  he  be  honest,  will, 
when  offering  a  new  line  of  goods  to  his  customers 
and  smaller  dealers,  be  careful  of  the  quality  before 
he  offers  it.  He  will  put  it  to  a  test.  Even  then  it 
does  not  always  meet  favor  with  his  custom ;  but 
if  he  be  honest,  he  quickly  withdraws  it.  The  cus- 
tomer will  seldom  complain.  He  may  say  that  the 
goods  do  not  come  up  to  his  expectation,  and  he 
prefers  not  to  handle  them.  He  may  offer  no  ex- 
planation. The  merchant  he  has  received  them  from 
has  his  confidence.  He  knows  of  his  integrity,  and 
such  an  occurrence  could  not  sever  their  bond  of 
trade. 

The  theatre  manager  does  not  recognize  any  spe- 
cial test  of  the  goods  he  is  about  to  dispense.  He 
says,  "We  never  know  till  we  have  tried  a  play 
whether  it  will  go  or  not."  He  means  by  that,  make 
money  or  not.  If,  when  he  has  tried  it,  the  public 
and  press  unite  in  repelling  it,  in  refusing  to  handle 
it,  does  the  theatre  manager  always  quickly  with- 
draw it?  In  a  few  cases,  where  it  is  a  hopeless  fail- 
ure beyond  any  dispute,  he  may  perhaps;  but  gen- 
erally speaking  he  resorts  to  methods  to  force  his 
goods  upon  unknowing  customers.  He  sets  to  work 
play-jobbers  to  hack  and  hew  and  patch  up  again ; 
to  interpolate,  regardless  of  congruity,  just  propor- 
tions and  continuity;  any  means  that  may  lead  to 
a  readjustment  of  his  pecuniary  outlay  and  a  hope 
of  ultimate  remunerative  gain  on  imperfect,  unsatis- 
factory material.  He  discriminately  and  indiscrim- 


— 5— 

inately  fills  his  theatre  night  after  night  with  the 
show  of  patronage.  He  appropriates  from  press  clip- 
pings fragments  of  sentences  and  falsely  applies  them 
in  advertising  purposes  to  deceive  the  public,  his  cus- 
tomers. He  forces  an  unwarranted  number  of  per- 
formances, and  then  prepares  to  send  his  salesmen 
ahead  to  delude  his  foreign  buyers  into  purchasing 
his  latest  line  of  goods.  He  often  supplies  the  places 
of  superior,  high-priced  actors  with  inferior,  low- 
paid  talent.  He  cuts  and  trims  where  he  can,  and 
then  advertises  the  complete  production,  with  its  orig- 
inal cast.  This  is  not  business  integrity,  and  it  does 
not  deserve  success.  But  it  too  often  attains  its  end, 
—  satisfying  box-office  receipts.  But  it  is  truly  a 
condition  of  irregular  commercialism. 

In  this  great  expansive  country,  the  existence  of 
trusts,  if  they  are  honest  in  purpose  and  method, 
is  a  condition  much  to  the  public's  good.  Indeed,  it 
becomes  almost  a  necessity  in  facilitating  large  op- 
erations. But  if  a  trust  is  not  honest,  the  extent  of 
the  evil  it  is  capable  of  committing  is  in  just  pro- 
portion to  the  monstrousness  of  the  corporation  itself. 
It  is  the  vicious  spirit  of  monopoly  that  is  to  be 
dreaded.  That  spirit,  evident  at  the  inception,  trans- 
mits to  its  offspring,  the  trust,  the  same  disposition. 
That  condition,  uncorrected  and  animated  through 
disregard  of  integrity,  grows  into  the  corrupt  mon- 
ster that  must  feed  on  the  vitality  of  its  smaller 
species  if  it  would  subsist.  When  it  has  sufficiently 
devoured  this  sustenance,  and  corrupted  it  hopelessly 
by  contaminating  embodiment,  and  nothing  more  re- 
mains to  glut  its  abnormal  craving,  it  decays  in  the 
natural  stagnancy  of  its  corruptness,  and  carries 
along  with  it  all  that  has  succumbed  to  its  tyranny. 


For  what  it  has  consumed  and  unremittingly  de- 
stroyed, it  makes  no  restitution.  But  if  this  trust  be 
honestly  fathered,  it  transmits  an  inheritance  of  good, 
which,  if  uprightly  pursued,  and  its  offspring  not 
liable  of  seizure  and  surrender  to  this  vicious  spirit, 
grows  into  a  vast  beneficence.  If  the  natural  area 
of  its  activity  encroaches  on  its  smaller  kind,  it  makes 
reparation  for  its  trespass  by  the  added  advantages, 
facilities  and  reasonableness  of  charges  offered  to  its 
beneficiaries,  the  public.  If  its  practices  be  regular 
and  the  material  it  dispenses  honest,  this  is  lawful 
competition  and  beneficent.  It  does  not  seek  to  pre- 
vent competition;  it  invites  and  exhilarates  it  by 
the  mere  fact  of  its  regularity  and  honesty.  The  men 
who  conduct  the  business  are  honest,  the  ones  who 
furnish  the  counters  are  honest,  and  the  ones  who 
dispense  the  goods  are  honest,  even  though  they  may 
all  contain  one  head.  Every  moral  and  lawful  obli- 
gation is  fulfilled  to  the  purchasers.  If  the  business 
of  the  theatre  could  be  relieved  of  speculation,  dis- 
honesty and  charlatanry,  and  placed  in  the  power  of 
honest  business  managers,  dealing  with  honest  play- 
wrights, and  dispensing  through  honest  actors,  all 
working  through  the  offices  of  trusts  honestly  fath- 
ered, it  would  truly  lead  to  the  proper  adjustment 
of  the  theatre  in  America,  and  by  the  integrity  of 
its  providers,  relieve  the  compliant  and  indulgent 
public  of  any  further  show  of  indiscreet  civility. 
Such  a  state  of  affairs  is  impossible  now,  of  course. 
The  stipulated  conditions  must  be  steadily  and  health- 
ily brought  to  a  fixedness  and  realization  of  their  just 
importance. 

Merited  independence  can  not  be  despotically  set 
aside.     It  must  either  sink  or  succumb  to  the  irreg- 


TH* 


7 

ularities  and  practices  of  that  despotism  first.  Mo- 
nopoly is  contrary  to  nature,  and  consequently  only 
nature  herself  can  best  provide  the  condition  that 
shall  dethrone  its  tyranny.  You  cannot  supplant  it 
otherwise  except  by  the  triumph  of  enforced  despotic 
competition  of  another  monopoly,  that  must  in  time 
become  as  vicious  as  the  one  overthrown.  To  ad- 
vance the  theatre  to  the  true  dignity  and  rightful 
power  that  would  claim  the  respect  of  all  honest  trade, 
it  should  be  represented  by  merchants  whose  purposes 
and  methods  exemplify  in  highest  meaning  the  word 
"integrity."  Integrity  of  the  individual  in  an  honest 
fight  for  supremacy.  If  that  individual  stands  for 
the  dominant  power  of  some  big  combination,  just 
to  the  extent  that  the  scope  of  his  trust  offices  ex- 
ceeds that  of  the  single-handed  individual,  just  to 
that  farther  reaching  and  broader  extent  becomes  he 
capable  of  benefiting  the  public  and  the  class  of  work- 
men he  must  employ,  which  means  still  farther  an 
accrued  advantage  to  the  general  condition  of  work- 
ingmen.  But  he  must  be  genuinely  honest.  Then, 
the  trust  creates  and  speeds  good.  But  if  dishonest, 
it  must  equally  retard  and  demoralize  any  possible 
prospect  of  lasting  benefit. 

While  the  theatre  manager  should  have  positive 
views,  and  exercise  the  right  to  judge  as  to  what 
material  shall  be  exhibited  from  his  stage,  he  should 
never  presume  to  manage  the  preparation  and  expo- 
sition of  it.  That  he  may  suggest  or  advise  in  quiet 
counsel  is  perfectly  proper  and  desirable;  but  the 
affairs  of  the  stage  should  be  completely  under  the 
executive  control  of  a  competent  stage  manager. 
Each  should  amicably  serve  as  a  balance  to  the  con- 
servatism or  liberalism  of  the  other.  We  should  do 


away  with  stage  synonyms;  the  stage  director,  the 
play  producer,  the  actor-manager  (the  Pooh  Bah  of 
the  theatre),  who  too  often  leaves  no  mark  of  future 
regard  save  the  self-satiation  of  his  personal  vanity. 
We  except,  of  course,  a  few  of  the  great  minds  that 
have  lent  distinction  and  insured  future  worth  to  the 
stage.  But  they  are  few,  and  even  with  some  of 
them  it  is  questionable  whether  any  positive  benefit 
can  accrue  the  future  state  of  the  stage  through  the 
greatness  of  actor-managers,  who,  in  their  autocratic 
insistence  of  a  condition  of  complete  subserviency  to 
their  predominant  mentality,  have  checked  and  suffo- 
cated any  apparent  audacity  of  individuality  fighting 
for  deserved  supremacy. 

But  to  revert  to  the  manager  and  now  briefly  dis- 
cuss the  tangibility  of  the  material  at  the  disposal  of 
this  theatre  merchant.  He  conducts  an  art  store.  In 
the  material  he  handles  he  is  greatly  reliant  on  a 
judicious  employment  and  association  with  play- 
wright, actor,  musician,  singer,  scenic  artist,  art  me- 
chanics; and,  in  the  provident  production  of  their 
crafts.  If  these  workers  be  proficient  in  their  separate 
vocations,  if  they  have  prepared  (before  they  profess 
to  practise)  their  arts,  if  they  be  reliable,  and  hon- 
estly endeavor  to  best  aid  the  manager  and  serve 
his  patrons,  the  results  of  such  purpose  must  be  of 
tangible,  stable  worth,  and  sterling  material  to  traffic 
in.  But  if  they  be  incompetent,  charlatans  and  dis- 
honest, brazenly  intruding  into  such  domains,  unpre- 
pared, unpractised,  without  even  having  served  an 
apprenticeship,  their  wares  consequently  sink  to  the 
state  of  unfixed,  vacillating  worthlessness.  To  ex- 
hibit such  material  is  hazarding  a  chance.  It  is  mere 
speculation.  It  is  dishonest.  If  the  manager  is  cog- 


—9— 

nizant  of  such  existing  conditions  (and  of  course  he 
often  must  be),  he  so  declares  himself  a  trickster.  If 
he  wishes  to  be  faithful  and  honest  to  the  best  pur- 
poses of  his  trust  and  to  his  public,  he  would  neither 
employ  nor  associate  with  any  craftsman  whose  work 
did  not  possess  the  quality  of  tangible,  stable  worth- 
iness. It  is  to  be  lamented  that  this  condition  of 
unpreparedness  and  incompetency  exists  almost  ex- 
clusively in  the  vocations  of  the  actor  and  the  play- 
wright, the  two  conditions  of  all  that  should  be 
found  most  thoroughly  prepared  and  proficient.  The 
arts  of  scene  painter,  musician,  and  even  mechanic 
are  virtually  pursued  with  much  more  general 
methodical  preparation,  progression  and  finish  than 
are  those  of  actor  and  playwright.  What  wonder, 
then,  thai  the  spectacular  and  musical  element  of 
stage  production  predominates  to-day.  It  is  by  virtue 
of  a  natural  right.  Not  until  the  condition  of  actor 
and  playwright  be  raised  to  a  status  of  self-evinced 
import,  and  some  guarantee  of  fixedness  attached  to 
their  liableness  in  the  practise  of  their  profession,  just 
so  long  as  these  channels  are  open  to  the  reckless 
intrusion  of  any  mean  applicant  that  has  become  pos- 
sessed with  a  desire  to  write  plays  and  act,  unmindful 
of  his  lack  of  any  proper  degree  of  preparation  or 
fitness  to  engage  in  such  nice  occupations,  and  just 
so  long  as  the  business  manager  will  hazard  a  chance 
with  such,  through  his  speculative  greed  to  seek  quick 
pecuniary  advantage,  just  so  long  there  can  be  no 
healthy  drama,  nor  any  tangible  worth  attached  to 
the  trade  of  the  theatre  manager,  nor  any  conse- 
quent dignity,  importance  and  just  respect  shown  for 
the  institution  he  conducts  —  the  theatre. 

Assure  the  public  of  your  integrity  of  purpose,  and 


—ID- 
even  if  your  production  does  not  always  come  up  to 
highest  expectation,  that  public  will  not  censure  nor 
forsake  you.  It  will  leniently  overlook  the  momentary 
relapse,  and  rest  content  in  the  assurance  that  the 
next  offering  will  attain  the  standard  of  excellence 
which  your  integrity  has  taught  them  to  expect.  If 
it  be  argued  that  the  supply  cannot  always  meet  the 
demand,  I  would  reply  that  there  lie  unused  hundreds 
of  classic  and  standard  dramas,  high-class  comedies, 
opera  bouffe  and  burlesques,  which  in  the  hands  of 
the  skilled  playwright  and  musician,  aided  by  the 
adept  stage  manager,  could,  by  expert  uses  of  modern 
appliances,  equipments  and  mechanical  devices  of  the 
theatre  of  to-day,  be  reconstructed  into  highly  ap- 
proved, intellectual  and  relishable  entertainment.  At 
all  events,  they  would  be  preferable  to  the  inane, 
plotless  fabrications  of  vulgar  action  and  verbal 
slush  concocted  by  brazen  incompetency.  Famous 
musicians  and  distinguished  librettists  have  lent  their 
art  and  talents  to  the  building  of  opera  bouffe  and 
burlesque;  now  lost  arts,  emerged  in  the  hectic 
whirl  of  distorted  dialect,  monkey  grimaces  and  in- 
solent ridicule  masquerading  as  satire.  Honesty  and 
integrity  in  the  business  manager  would  move  him 
to  promote  the  former  to  the  exclusion  of  the  mean- 
ingless medley  of  current  amusement  that  disturbs 
the  best  purposes  of  the  theatre  to-day.  Such  action 
would  inspire  an  awakening  to  higher  efforts  in  play- 
writing,  and  the  ultimate  results  of  such  endeavor 
would  furnish  reliable  material;  tangible  art  goods. 
The  theatre  merchant  then  might  take  his  place 
amongst  the  foremost  tradesmen  of  the  day.  In  his 
integrity  and  bid  for  public  trust  and  confidence,  it 
would  not  be  unusual  to  find  him  presiding  at  some 


—11— 

distinguished  board  of  direction.  Such  a  condition 
of  reliable  theatre  traffic,  either  independently  con- 
ducted, or  through  the  channels  of  honest  combination, 
free  from  the  irregular  practices  of  base  monopoly 
and  selfish  gain,  would  eventually  place  the  theatre 
in  unquestioned  repute  as  a  public  benevolence  and 
educator,  and  would  ever  foreshow,  an  inheritance 
to  others,  and  not  alone  tell,  the  mere  momentary 
possession  of  individual  personality  and  speculative 
flurry. 


Number  Three    of    "  Stage    Affairs,"    appearing 
January  29,  1907,  concerns: 

THE  ACTOR. 

THE   QUALITY   OF    HIS    IMPORTANCE. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER  THREE  JANUARY  29,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 
IN  AMERICA 

TODAY 

BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


\ 

+ 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs.' 


No.  1.  The  Playwright.  The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.  2.  The  Business  Manager.  His  True  Mis- 
sion. 


Copyright,   1907, 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 

—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


III. 
THE  ACTOR. 

THE    QUALITY   OF    HIS    IMPORTANCE. 

In  the  best  type  of  American  actor  we  find  a  per- 
son broad-minded,  generous  and  charitable;  of  high 
intellect,  becoming  deportment  and  social  import.  He 
maintains  with  all  a  compliant  nature,  that  attracts 
to  him  readily  consequential  men  and  women,  ever  de- 
manding profit  and  entertainment  from  his  compan- 
ionship. In  freely  yielding  to  this  condition,  a  serious 
devotion  to  a  proper  progression  in  his  art  must  often 
necessarily  be  set  aside,  in  surrendering  to  a  few,  the 
time,  talents  and  nervous  energy  that  should  rather 
be  constantly  cared  for,  increased  and  expended  on 
the  many  who  make  up  the  public  to  whom  this  actor 
must  ever  be  a  conscientious  and  faithful,  albeit  fear- 
less, servant.  It  is  in  the  condition  of  this  type  of 
actor  —  if  self-devoted  and  determined  to  attain  the 
highest  approximate  state  of  perfection  in  the  pur- 
suit of  his  art  —  that  the  American  stage  might 
easily  claim,  at  least,  a  predictive  condition  of  ex- 


— 2— 

cellence,  foretelling  with  great  surety  a  future  of 
exalted  and  permanent  worth  in  the  conduction  of  its 
truly  useful  and  beneficial  institution,  the  theatre. 

There  exists  another  type  of  actor  in  America.  He 
emblemizes  the  quality  shown  in  the  vast  multitude 
of  vagrant  incumbents  lounging  on  the  unsound,  tin- 
seled frailty  of  an  unseemly  abuse  of  the  institution 
and  art,  whose  proper  aims  should  rather  stir  them 
to  an  appreciation  and  effective  use  of  the  true  re- 
sources and  talents  claiming  a  legitimate  relation  to 
the  vocation  that  viciously  they  have  slumped  into. 
These  men  and  women  have  no  settled  aim,  no  serious 
inclination.  They  entered  into  their  calling  with  few 
natural  attributes  to  recommend  them,  and  they  re- 
main in  it  with  few  inclinations  to  pursue  it,  except 
to  satisfy  a  mere  sensual  craving  to  be  in  it,  and  to 
enjoy  the  more  or  less  unrestrained  freedom  and  care- 
less companionship  that  such  a  general  nomadic  life 
affords,  regardless,  and  at  the  expense,  of  any  ex- 
penditure of  energy,  and  concentrated  application  of 
thought,  to  utilize  their  idle  moments,  and  "resting" 
respites,  towards  elevating  their  conditions  both  as 
actors  and  as  men.  To  this  type  of  actor  it  is  con- 
sidered time  enough  to  study  a  part  when  he  gets  a 
chance  to  play  it-  Then  when  the  chance  comes,  he 
is  more  intent  on  playing  it  first,  and  studying  it 
afterwards  (if,  indeed,  he  does  even  then).  To  get 
work  is  his  all-absorbing  thought.  To  receive  remun- 
eration his  all-important  necessity.  The  means  by 
which  he  is  to  attain  these  conditions,  and  the  ques- 
tion as  to  his  qualifications  to  rightfully  assume  the 
practice  of  the  essential  demands  made  upon  him  as 
an  artist,  are  of  minor  importance  or  of  no  consid- 
eration whatsoever.  The  matter  of  art  in  the  con- 


cerns  of  his  stage  career  is  hopelessly  immerged  in 
the  constant  strife  for  remuneration  and  the  sensual 
desire  to  satisfy  that  condition  through  the  alluring 
channels  of  stage  life.  He  does  not  know,  nor  would 
he  have  the  patience  to  endure  the  fact,  that,  if  he 
properly  prepared  for  his  art  and  honestly  practised 
it,  the  remuneration  would  be  finally  and  securely 
awarded.  But  the  actor  is  not  wholly  to  blame  for 
this  existing  state  of  his  condition. 

With  the  exception  of  a  few  names  essential  to  the 
furtherance  of  pecuniary  gain,  the  manager  of  to-day 
selects  his  cast  much  after  the  manner  that  he  does 
the  scenery,  properties  and  effects  of  the  play  he  is 
about  to  produce.  The  owner,  author,  director,  or 
all  three  (whoever  has  the  say),  generally  interviews 
the  actors  and  actresses,  —  after  days,  sometimes 
weeks  and  even  months  on  their  part,  of  patient,  or 
impatient,  waiting,  —  looks  them  over,  so  to  speak, 
and  if  they  realize  in  personal  favor,  voice,  looks  and 
shape,  the  part  under  consideration,  the  possession 
or  no  of  histrionic  art  is  a  matter  of  little  or  no 
consequence.  If  the  vocation  of  the  stage  is  to  be 
considered  a  profession  and  acting  an  art,  who  can 
justly  deny  that  the  existence  of  such  a  condition  as 
has  just  herein  been  cited,  is  not  truly  deplorable  and 
somewhat  discouraging,  and  indeed  needful  of  at- 
tempted adjustment  at  least? 

To-day  the  actor  or  actress  possessing  the  advantage 
of  an  inheritance  through  relationship  to  prominent 
and  famous  antecedents  is  bought  and  sold  in  theatri- 
cal trade  merely  on  the  strength  of  that  inheritance. 
This  is  not  only  an  injustice  to  many  more  deserv- 
ing actors  lacking  such  advantage,  but  also,  in  many 
cases,  a  great  injury  to  the  human  property  thus 


bartered  by  the  greed  of  theatrical  speculation.  The 
inherent  talent  in  these  actors  and  actresses  would,  if 
quietly  awakened,  carefully  nurtured  and  sturdily  ma- 
tured, assure  much  hopeful  expectancy  for  the  best 
purposes  of  the  stage  and  its  future  exaltation.  But 
no,  —  they  are  thrust  into  the  glare  and  focus  of 
high  lights,  fitted,  sometimes  misfitted,  with  a  vehicle 
to  expose  their  personal  charms  of  youth,  decoying 
eccentricities  of  manner,  and  by  the  time  that  they 
should  have  quite  securely  moulded  their  art  into  a 
form  that  proper  preparation,  progression,  study  and 
experience  might  chisel  into  images  of  special  beauty, 
they  are  too  often  left  neglected  by  the  traders  who 
bartered  them,  and  by  the  public  whose  senses  then 
have  become  all  too  surfeited.  Broken  toys  in  a 
deserted  corner  of  the  playhouse. 

The  actor  in  America  to-day  (and  there  are  very 
few  exceptions,  even  amongst  the  so-called  "  big 
ones ")  endures  more,  fawns  and  cringes,  sacrifices 
intellectuality,  temperament,  and  even  manhood,  to 
obtain  and  hold  his  position,  a  thousand  times  more 
than  he  would  in  any  other  employment  or  vocation 
under  the  sun.  Every  manager  knows  this  and  makes 
advantage  of  it.  He  doesn't  disguise  the  fact;  the 
actor  can't.  The  actor  to-day  is  relegated  to  the  man- 
ager's "prop"  list  merely.  He  commands  respect 
only  as  regards  his  use  and  durability.  The  quality 
of  his  importance  is  estimated,  and  he  is  also  sub- 
jected to  the  same  abuse  and  censure,  or  attention 
and  praise,  in  a  like  manner  as  are  the  inanimate 
properties  purchased  to  adorn  the  stage.  And  yet 
this  same  actor  too  often  waits  upon  the  manager 
as  no  serf  does  upon  his  king.  Why?  Because  the 
actor  has  little  or  no  consideration  for  his  art  for  its 


—5— 

own  sake.  He  prefers  to  earn  his  living  by  following 
the  stage.  He  lives  in  hope  that  some  lucky  strike 
is  going  to  bring  him  at  once  fortune  and  perhaps 
fame,  and  thereby  reverse  the  quality  of  his  impor- 
tance. He  has  no  proper,  healthy  estimate  of  the 
profession  he  would  be  a  part  of.  He  doesn't  know, 
he  doesn't  care,  nor  will  he  recognize,  that  the  actor's 
vocation  is  a  profession,  the  practice  of  it  an  art. 
To  him  it  is  a  business  first  and  last.  He,  too,  is  a 
speculator.  He  is  in  the  same  game  with  the  man- 
ager, and  shows  his  hand  at  every  play.  The  fault 
is  here,  —  the  actor  lacks  ideals  and  a  true  spirit 
of  emulation.  He  lives,  almost  always,  alone  for  the 
momentary  prospect  of  pecuniary  gain;  seldom  for 
the  growing,  lasting  attainment  of  art  gain.  By  for- 
feiting a  respect  for  his  art  and  its  ideals,  and  con- 
fessing a  disregard  for  the  true  spirit  of  emulation, 
he  forfeits  the  respect  of  all  the  conditions  and  stip- 
ulations that  surround  that  art  and  might  tend  towards 
his  benefit.  He  does  not  justly  respect  his  own  con- 
dition, and  consequently  neither  challenges  nor  de- 
serves respect  from  others. 

In  this  fact  (a  lack  of  ideals  and  the  true  spirit 
of  emulation),  almost  solely,  I  believe,  lies  the  cause 
for  the  failure  of  self-maintenance  of  the  Actors' 
Fund  of  America.  Therein  lies,  I  believe,  the  stigma 
that  blinds  the  path  that  might  otherwise  light  the 
unobstructed  way  to  self-supporting  permanency  of 
the  Actors'  Fund  of  America.  A  state  that  would 
allow  its  charity  to  exist  unheralded,  and  unaided 
by  the  public  whose  purse  and  patience  are  perhaps 
taxed  quite  enough  already.  The  gentlemen  officiat- 
ing for  that  Fund  are  pre-eminently  equipped  to 
efficiently  discharge  its  business  functions.  It  appears 


they  do  most  thoroughly  with  tact  and  unselfish  labor ; 
but  notwithstanding,  the  president  of  the  Fund  in  his 
annual  report  of  May,  1905,  makes  this  statement: 
"  The  only  relief  we  have  recourse  to,  is  through  the 
help  of  the  actors  and  actresses;  if  they  will  con- 
tribute their  small  annual  payments,  as  members  of 
the  Fund,  it  will  then  be  placed  above  want;  but  we 
must  allow  for  a  large  percentage  of  falling  off,  and 
so  I  presume  the  officers  will  have  to  continue  or- 
ganizing benefits  from  year  to  year."  This  is  a  con- 
dition that  has  existed  for  many  previous  years,  and 
bids  fair  to  remain  unaltered.  Reflect  on  that  con- 
dition confronting  a  board  of  direction,  for  the  most 
part  business  managers  who  are  giving  serious,  ar- 
duous labor  in  the  cause  of  charity,  to  benefit  the 
condition  of  that  same  actor  to  whom  they  pay  also 
a  salary.  Managerial  skill,  business  tact,  has  not  sup- 
plied, nor  does  it  seem  likely  to  worthily  furnish,  the 
deficiency  caused  by  the  neglect  and  failing  duty  of 
the  beneficiary,  —  the  actor.  And  he  is  not  miserly; 
he  is  almost  always  generous,  helping,  charitable  if 
thrown  into  environments  of  immediate  necessity. 
But  he  lacks  ideals  and  the  beautiful  spirit  of  emula- 
tion. He  vies  with  the  manager  for  pecuniary  gain. 
"  I'm  in  the  business  for  the  money,"  says  the  actor. 
Not  one  in  five  hundred  or  more  admits  he  is  in  it 
for  anything  else. 

Acting  is  an  art!  An  intellectual  occupation!  The 
actor  should,  first  of  all,  live  and  work  for  his  art. 
Pecuniary  gain  is  the  manager's  need.  He  can't 
exhibit  art  without  it.  The  actor  who  professes  his 
art  alone  for  the  "  money  there  is  in  it,"  has  no  honest 
claim  to  its  possession.  He  has  no  right  to  remain 
and  clog  the  mainspring  of  the  true  motive  of  the 


— 7— 

theatre ;  the  art  expression  of  human  types  and  ideas. 
Such  a  one  should  be  excluded  from  it.  His  place 
belongs  to  him  who  appreciates,  and  desires  to  the 
more  appreciate,  the  true  beauties  of  his  art.  Then, 
if  the  remuneration  do  not  follow,  he  has  not  failed; 
and  there  awaits  ahead  to  receive  him,  a  home.  It 
is  what  he  has  striven  to  make  it.  And  when  he 
has  gained  that  home,  there  should  be  one  thought 
uppermost  in  his  mind:  "I  earned  this;  it  is  mine 
by  right." 

A  word  concerning  the  instilling  of  idealism  in  the 
actor  through  emulation  of  the  fittest  of  his  own  craft. 
I  speak  with  no  ill-disposed  intent  to  assail  and  belie 
the  stage,  its  institutions  or  its  incumbents.  There 
is  a  society  in  New  York  City,  which,  in  its  appella- 
tive significance,  is  all  that  might  be  desired  to  con- 
vey in  a  single  thought  its  motive  for  existence. 
Nearly  all  of  the  most  prominent  personages  insep- 
arable from  the  stage  of  America  to-day  are  members 
of  this  society.  That  is  to  say,  they  lend  distinction 
to  its  roll-call.  Some  few  are  active  and  more  or 
less  earnest  and  devoted  workers  in  its  cause.  But, 
—  the  great  unswaying  membership  (albeit  they  may 
be  good  companions,  honest  fellows,  willing  givers) 
appear  like  the  restless,  drifting,  unintentioned  sea- 
farer, unpurposed  in  the  true  significance  that  the 
practice  of  his  craft  implies.  And  so  with  this  ma- 
jority membership  (pleasantly  edging  and  elbowing 
each  other  in  their  endeavors  to  reach  the  newest 
favor,  or  present  the  latest  grievance),  what  magnet 
anchor  hove  within  their  harborage  makes  them  fast? 
A  chance  of  pecuniary  gain.  A  society  whose  banner 
is  of  such  declaration  as  is  theirs  should  be  free 
from  any  semblance  of  pecuniary  inducements.  At 


its  head  should  jet  its  sternest  life  and  richest  en- 
dowments to  spray  with  precept,  example,  helpful- 
ness and  fraternity  its  component  members.  To  the 
public  that  honors  such,  is  owed  a  loyalty,  it  is  true; 
but  to  the  profession  (the  distinguished  part  of  which 
they  are),  to  that  profession  which  in  claiming  them 
makes  it  possible  for  that  public  to  honor  them,  they 
owe  much  more,  —  a  sacred  duty  to  keep  it  beautiful ! 
to  banish  from  its  altar  every  odor  that  might  de- 
basely  infuse  the  actor's  sense  and  art,  and  then  to 
spread  the  incense  of  idealism  through  emulation,  that 
it  should  arouse  the  brotherhood  of  actors  in  Amer- 
ica to  the  highest  sense  of  duty  to  the  art  that  they 
are  privileged  to  profess. 

The  spirit  of  charity  would  then  be  embodied  in 
this  fulfilment.  It  would  need  no  urging.  The  op- 
portunities to  pursue  one's  art  would  appear  from 
out  this  consummation  without  the  sense  of  trade. 
There  then  would  be  an  end  to  that  unstable  engaging 
agency,  wavering  (in  its  bid  for  patronage  from  man- 
ager and  actor)  on  an  uncertain  balance,  ready  to 
shift  its  weight  in  that  direction  which  may  best  ful- 
fill the  immediate  prospect  of  its  purposes,  and  insure 
some  future  favor.  A  vicious  need,  breeding  and 
maintaining  jealousy,  partiality  and  a  woful  lack  of 
self-reliance.  In  the  practice  of  this  medium  is  seen 
no  proper  spirit,  no  special  attempt  of  an  orderly, 
systematic  and  just  disposal  of  positions  to  be  filled. 
Here  preferments  often  go  to  those  unworthy,  in- 
competent, inexperienced,  but  who,  nevertheless, 
through  bonds  of  affection,  social  ties  and  favoritism, 
must  be  advanced  in  spite  of  the  lack  of  any  real  merit, 
and  often  to  the  sacrifice  of  experience,  ability  and 
rank.  These  agencies  swarm  with  idlers,  possessing 


—9— 

no  higher  estimate  of  the  institution  they  lie  in  wait 
to  inhabit,  than  that  it  may  give  them  the  temporary 
indulgence  of  work,  and  thus  fixes  upon  it  a  common 
condition,  putting  it  in  the  same  category  with  the 
multifarious  forms  of  servility,  whose  individuals,  to 
find  their  medium  of  activity,  seek  registration  in  the 
employment  bureau. 

The  Brotherhood  of  Actors  and  the  Actors'  Fund 
of  America  should  constitute  a  stanch  and  firmly 
welded  union  of  two  distinct,  and  yet  inseparable,  co- 
operate factors.  The  former  confronts  the  animate 
joy  of  daily  strife  to  maintain  both;  it  seeks  rest, 
comfort  and  happiness  in  the  companionship  and  care 
of  the  latter.  But  the  latter  cannot  be  idle!  They 
must  help  each  other  if  they  would  hope  to  properly 
sustain  the  desired  object  of  their  union,  —  a  self- 
maintenance  of  their  home,  freed  from  any  sense  or 
necessity  of  charity.  The  actor,  entering  upon  his 
career,  should  become  a  material  individual  embodi- 
ment of  that  idea. 

Something  concerning  the  base  intrusions  that  enter 
unjustly  upon  the  actors'  domicile.  We  often  hear  a 
spectator  viewing  a  play  make  some  such  comment 

as  this:  "  Isn't  that  just  like  "  (naming  some 

distinctive  type  of  countryman  in  a  Northern,  East- 
ern, Southern  or  Western  district  of  our  own  land; 
or  perhaps  some  character  of  foreign  locality  and 
extraction).  Such  a  remark  is  a  compliment  to  the 
artist  simulating  that  special  character.  Except  in 
very  few  instances,  to  replace  that  artistic  exhibition 
by  substituting  the  native  product,  untutored  in  the 
art  of  dramatic  personation,  is  to  mar,  by  its  crude 
realism,  the  just  simulation  of  the  original,  that  only 
the  able  exponent  of  characterization  and  expression 


—10— 

can  truthfully  reveal.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  in  some 
rare  cases  persons  associated  with  incidents  in  real 
life  and  employed  to  reproduce  them  on  the  stage, 
possess  a  sufficient  degree  of  histrionic  ability  to  be 
moulded  into  an  acceptable  representation  of  the 
events  thus  transplaced ;  but  such  cases  are  rare.  Yet 
to-day  in  America  we  find  the  actors'  vocation  con- 
fronted by  many  such  instances  as  referred  to  above. 
Thus,  many  individuals  who  have  attained  promi- 
nence through  various  channels  of  notoriety,  —  by 
fistic  skill,  social  scandal,  sensational  escapades,  and 
many  other  means,  —  are  sought  and  approached  by 
managers  who  employ  a  certain  crew  of  sensational 
playwrights,  for  the  mere  purpose  of  the  base  ad- 
vantage that  such  irregular  practices  present  for  im- 
mediate theatrical  speculation.  Some  of  the  notoriety 
thus  bargained  for  may  find  in  its  committer  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  native  talent  for  the  stage;  enough 
to  justify  its  use  as  a  medium  to  transplace  from 
life  to  mimicry  the  original  participant  and  events 
transpired.  Origin  nor  position  should  never  preju- 
dice promoter  nor  spectator,  provided  the  incumbent 
is  truly  gifted  with  the  attributes  essential  to  an 
adequate  exhibition,  and  if  he  has  been  properly  edu- 
cated to  their  most  fitting  use.  But  this  condition 
is  not  often  found.  The  exponent  of  such  exhibitions 
as  we  have  just  referred  to,  is  too  often  a  person 
ill-mannered,  uncouth,  unlearned  and  unfit  generally 
to  be  precipitated  upon  the  scenes  of  an  institution 
whose  exponents  should  ever  be  men  and  women 
properly  prepared  and  seriously  inclined  to  promote 
at  all  times  and  to  the  end,  the  best  purposes  of  the 
high  mission  it  sets  forth.  The  playwright  who  will 
hew  and  build  out  of,  and  around,  such  pulpous 


—11— 

material  is  a  menace  to  society,  as  is  the  manager  who 
exhibits  it.  As  to  the  actors  who  engage  in  such 
brainless  eruption,  it  would  be  wiser  if  they  sought 
the  field  to  till  and  hoe,  than  to  become  immersed  in 
obscure  publicity  under  the  deluge  of  such  lavarous 
verbosity. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  turn  to  the  many  apt  illustra- 
tions of  this  abuse  of  the  actor's  art  that  constantly 
substantiate  the  truth  of  the  foregoing  remarks ;  but 
I  am  going  to  add  a  brief  illustrative  mention  of  the 
greediness  of  some  managers  to  seize  upon  every 
opportunity  of  a  possible  enrichment  of  their  treasury, 
regardless  of  the  more  lasting  policy  of  encouragement 
to  the  highest  degree  of  the  vocations  of  playwright 
and  actor.  This  avariciousness  is  generally  cloaked 
in  the  disguise  of  "  realistic  touches." 

Not  very  long  ago  a  genial  citizen,  a  humble  lay- 
man (one  who  for  nearly  half  a  century  was  a  loyal 
retainer  and  warm-hearted  enthusiast  of  the  thousands 
of  men  who  have  entered  and  pursued  one  of  the 
highest  institutions  of  learning  in  the  world),  was  dis- 
suaded, so  it  was  reported,  from  the  intercessions  of 
endeared  relationship  by  the  selfish  interests  of  theatri- 
cal venture,  and  was  dragged  from  the  natural  stage 
of  his  simple  triumphs,  the  truly  realistic  scene  wherein 
he  trod,  to  lend  an  unaffected  touch  of  realism  to  an 
environment  of  artificial  resemblance.  Dazed  by  the 
glare  of  unreality,  this  merry  old  character  who  had 
had  so  unwisely  forced  upon  him  this  strangeness, 
therein  failed  as  totally  as  he  had  theretofore  tri- 
umphed in  the  daily  scenes  of  his  untutored  practice. 
Such  a  character  developed  and  subjected  to  the  art 
of  simulation  could  not  fail  to  obtain  recognition  by 
its  introduction,  if  not  in  the  vital  motive  of  the  play, 


—12— 

at  least  as  an  episodical  adjunct.  The  manager  plac- 
ing upon  the  stage  such  incongruity  is  either  ignorant 
of  his  obligation  to  the  institution  he  would  promote, 
or  wilfully  unheedful  of  its  best  protection,  and  of 
his  proper  duty  to  the  actor  in  a  just  regard  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  true  quality  of  his  importance. 
But  not  until  the  individual  actor  is  brought  to  a 
fitting  realization  of  his  true  quality  of  importance, 
and  worthily  adheres  to  it,  can  he  ever  expect  to  be 
highly  judged  and  approved  by  others. 

I  am  the  actor's  friend,  always;  but  not  often 
his  sympathizer.  To  benefit  his  condition  or  his  art 
tending  towards  high  ideals  and  attainment,  I  would 
unceasingly  bend  my  best  endeavor,  tire  and  wear 
every  nerve  in  my  body.  In  such  devotion  rests  the 
idealism  and  true  spirit  of  emulation  that  would  em- 
body in  its  own  truth  the  fixed  and  lasting  charge 
of  the  Actors'  Fund  of  America.  Optimism  should 
be  our  faith,  idealism  our  hope ;  the  path  we  trudge  to 
deserve  these,  —  charity ! 


Number  Four  of  "  Stage  Affairs,"  appearing  Feb- 
ruary 5,  1907,  concerns: 

THE  STAGE  MANAGER, 

HIS    DECAYING    POWER. 


!E»   *•* 


A  scries  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER  FOUR  FEBRUARY  5,  1907 


STAGE   AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 
p.  o.  BOX  1341 

SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs*' 


No.    1.    The  Playwright.    The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.    2.     The  Business  Manager.    His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.    3.    The  Actor.    The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 


Copyright,   1907, 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 


—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


IV. 
THE    STAGE    MANAGER. 

HIS    DECAYING    POWER. 

Except  in  a  few  rare  instances,  the  stage  manager 
of  to-day  (as  that  title  is  generally  understood)  is 
too  often  a  person  of  small  knowledge,  less  culture, 
little  experience  and  weak  ability  when  compared  to 
what  a  proper  estimate  of  that  position  should  be 
and  the  positive  qualities  that  its  incumbent  should 
possess.  For  this  office  (the  undisputed  executive 
head  of  the  stage  department  of  the  theatre)  should 
be  selected  a  gentleman  of  sufficient  years,  experience, 
ability,  learning  and  culture  to  at  once  command  and 
hold  the  respect  and  concurrent  obedience  of  all  his 
co-laborers.  While  the  stage  manager,  in  the  pro- 
mulgation of  his  ideas  and  theories,  and  in  an  in- 
sistent exaction  of  a  faithful  practice  of  them,  should 
always  stand  firm  in  the  courage  of  his  convictions, 
at  the  same  time  this  condition  should  always  be 
established  and  maintained  through  the  legitimate  out- 
growth of  requisite  qualities  (the  possession  of  which 


—2— 

has  gained  for  him  his  position),  and  never  a  mere 
assertion  of  his  ideas,  and,  whether  right  or  wrong, 
a  rude  enforcement  of  obedience  through  arrogant 
autocracy. 

The  stage  manager  should  judiciously  and  with  ar- 
tistic discernment  exercise  the  firm  hand  that  dis- 
tributes, developes  and  harmonizes  the  colors  that  have 
been  selected  for  the  picture.  But  he  should  never 
presume  to  make  nor  correct  the  substance  of  that 
color.  Like  the  painter  and  the  sculptor,  he  should 
select  only  properly  prepared  mediums,  substantial 
colors  and  perfect  forms,  with  which  to  animate  his 
canvas  or  his  marble.  If  the  mediums  through  which 
he  must  work  are  inefficient  and  imperfect,  he  should 
cast  them  aside,  and  substitute  others  that  are  genuine. 
To  attempt  to  make  the  former  more  fitting,  or  to 
correct  their  inefficiency,  is  not  within  the  province 
of  the  stage  manager.  Unlearned  and  incompetent 
as  he  too  often  is  in  a  proper  distribution,  development 
and  harmonization  —  in  an  efficient  handling  —  of  the 
material,  in  the  use  of  which  he  should  otherwise  be 
a  master,  for  him  to  try  to  outstrip  such  ignorance 
by  a  presumptuous  attempt  to  temper  and  improve 
the  medium  at  his  command,  even  if  that  medium  be 
not  efficient  itself,  is  but  to  hinder  and  destroy  any 
natural  genuineness  that  its  crudity  may  possess,  and 
thereby  render  it  far  more  unserviceable  than  origi- 
nally found. 

The  stage  manager  should  be  the  commissioned 
officer  over  trained  soldiers ;  the  accomplished  con- 
ductor leading  skilled  instrumentalists.  His  care  is 
the  attainment  of  the  nearest  point  to  perfection  in 
the  ensemble.  While  he  may  suggest,  and  further 
enforce,  a  different  rendering  of  some  one  part,  at 


variance  with  the  instrumentalist's  own  conception,  but 
done  to  more  fully  effect  an  harmonious  whole,  still 
it  would  be  unpardonable  effrontery  to  attempt  to 
teach  that  artist  how  to  play  his  instrument.  He  may 
discharge  him  if  he  is  incompetent;  but  he  must 
not  rob  him  of  that  possession  acquired  through  prep- 
aration, study  and  finish  that  has  gained  him  the  right 
to  perform  as  a  skilled  part  of  the  whole  company, 
and  bespeaks  him  an  artist.  But  therein,  lamentable 
though  it  be,  lies  the  strongest  weapon  of  defence  in 
possession  of  a  certain  class  of  over-riding  stage  man- 
agers of  to-day. 

The  actor  suffers  from  such  because  in  America 
there  is  no  adequate  medium  of  instruction  in  the  art 
of  acting  of  sufficient  continuance  in  systematic  train- 
ing, or  a  proper  condition  of  final  judgment  as  to  a 
competency  of  whether  or  no  one  may  be  allowed 
to  rightfully  profess  the  practice  of  the  art  of  acting. 
In  the  absence  of  any  such  criterion  the  stage  manager 
too  often  insists  upon  an  automatic  imitation  of  his 
own  ignorance,  mannerisms,  limitations  and  pretence. 
But  as  this  is  generally  done  in  the  service,  and  under 
full  sanction  of  some  one  still  more  utterly  void  of 
any  sense  of  artistic  proportions,  the  "  bluff  "  goes, 
and  the  actor,  even  though  he  be  possessed  of  infinitely 
more  skill  and  taste  than  the  awkward  automaton  he 
is  made  to  copy,  must  surrender  his  intelligence,  ex- 
perience, and  often  his  accomplished  art  to  this  per- 
son, who,  in  his  desire  to  "  make  good  "  with  the 
individual  or  company  engaging  him,  ruthlessly  un- 
heeds  the  actor's  superior  ability,  temperament  and 
sensitiveness,  and  often  jeopardizes  any  chance  of  ar- 
tistic, and  sometimes  financial,  success  by  the  brazen 
enforcement  of  his  charlatanical  direction.  Of  course, 


there  is  the  other  side  to  the  question,  but  regarding 
the  actor  and  his  art  I  shall  write  at  length  in  later 
chapters  of  this  volume;  let  us  here  consider  further 
the  subject  of  the  stage  manager  of  to-day,  his  con- 
sequence, or,  rather,  inconsequence,  as  regards  the 
general  aspect  of  his  office  at  the  present  time. 

A  company  is  organized  and  a  play  put  in  re- 
hearsal under  the  supervision  of  a  director,  producer, 
actor-manager,  or  whatever  he  may  be  called.  There 
has  been  engaged  for  the  company  a  stage  manager. 
Many  times  the  "  business  "  and  "  situations  "  of  this 
play  have  been  carefully  thought  out  and  arranged 
beforehand,  and  are  subjected  to  few  alterations  dur- 
ing the  progress  of  rehearsals.  Many  more  times  the 
play  undergoes  innumerable  changes  from  first  to  final 
rehearsal.  Sometimes,  but  not  often,  a  play  is,  to  a 
very  great  extent,  staged  by  the  intuitive  instinct  and 
impressionable  imagination  of  the  one  in  authority. 
This  is  rare,  and,  of  course,  hazardous  and  uncertain, 
but  such  cases  have  existed.  During  these  rehearsals, 
the  stage  manager  sits  humbly  at  the  supervisor's  desk, 
manuscript  in  hand,  altering  the  text  here  and  there, 
changing  "business,"  making  notes  of  effects  to  be 
used  and  attended  to  "  off  stage,"  taking  instructions 
and  orders  from  the  director  concerning  various  mat- 
ters, and  when  the  actors  have  become  "  rough  per- 
fect," that  is,  have  laid  aside  their  parts,  he  facilitates 
progress  by  prompting  them  in  their  lines.  He  has 
observed  the  situations  entailing  the  use  of  music  and 
made  himself  acquainted  with  the  curtain  cues.  In 
the  management  of  many  of  these  various  duties  he 
is  obliged  to,  and  does,  when  the  regular  performances 
have  commenced,  solicit  the  assistance  of  actors  not 
on  the  stage  engaging  in  the  scene,  and  also  the  ser- 


*         J^"^^ 

vices  of  the  mechanics  employed  by  the  management 
of  the  company.  Of  course,  this  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary in  all  companies  of  any  distinction  at  all.  The 
stage  manager  often  acts  a  part  in  the  play ;  sometimes 
more  than  one,  in  theatrical  parlance  known  as  a 
"  double."  He  assigns  the  dressing-rooms  to  the 
members  of  the  company,  and  when  a  musical  director 
is  not  employed  by  the  company  travelling,  instructs 
the  resident  orchestra  concerning  the  music  used  in 
the  play. 

All  these  duties  in  themselves/  independent  of  the 
task  of  directing  the  preliminary  rehearsals,  are  ar- 
duous, important  and  responsible  ones,  and  when  faith- 
fully and  devotedly  performed  worthy  of  deep  respect 
and  sufficient  remuneration ;  and  it  is  fitting  that  they 
should  be  incumbent  on  no  inexperienced,  unable,  non- 
esteemed  person.  That  they  too  often  are  is  a  condi- 
tion in  stage  affairs  to-day  that  is  truly  deplorable. 
The  company  opens  its  season.  The  one  who  has 
superintended  the  rehearsals  generally  goes  along  with 
the  company  until  the  play  is  running  smoothly.  At 
the  end  of  that  time  the  entire  management  of  the 
stage  is  surrendered  to  the  one  regularly  appointed  to 
that  position,  the  subject  of  our  discussion  in  this  chap- 
ter. In  some  instances  we  find  a  man  sufficiently  ex- 
perienced, able,  courteous,  tactful  and  justly  authori- 
tative to  gain  at  once  obedience  and  commendation 
from  the  entire  company.  Such  is  a  happy  state  in- 
deed. But  unfortunately  this  condition  is  rare,  for  too 
often  this  stage  manager  becomes  the  mean  serving 
man  of  the  business  representative,  the  star,  a  relative, 
or  some  other  one  or  two  members  of  the  company 
whose  mean  flatteries  have  readily  swayed  his  meaner 
sense  of  equity.  Or  perhaps  some  one  whose  commer- 


cial  value  has  been  particularly  impressed  upon  him  by 
the  owners  of  the  theatrical  vehicle  or  combination  in 
question,  and  to  whom,  in  his  total  lack  and  disregard 
of  any  sense  of  justice  or  adequate  possession  of  either 
stamina  or  intelligence,  he  equally  fawns  in  mean  de- 
sign for  personal  aggrandizement.  His  conduct  soon 
becomes  a  hindrance  to  honest  endeavor  and  artistic 
purpose;  an  outrage  on  decency  and  manhood,  and 
a  base  mockery  to  the  highest  meant  significance  that 
his  title  proclaims.  To  enumerate  the  countless  ways 
that  such  a  person  may  assume,  in  arrogant  charla- 
tanry and  rank  disposition,  the  duties  of  his  office, 
would  be  a  useless  expenditure  of  time  and  to  no 
profit  in  any  direction  whatsoever;  but  a  general  out- 
line of  such  a  one's  duties,  and  his  usual  unfitness  for 
them  as  contrasted  to  the  highest  results  possible  in 
an  able  conduction  of  them  by  a  worthy  incumbent, 
will  not  be  superficial  at  this  point  of  our  endeavor 
to  place  simple  facts  and  plain  truths  before  our 
readers. 

Nearly  every  company  of  any  importance  carries 
its  own  scenery.  It  is  in  the  care  and  direction  of 
a  carpenter  as  regards  its  transportation  and  the  pro- 
cess of  setting  and  "  striking  " ;  that  is,  taking  down 
and  removing  one  scene  preparatory  to  putting  an- 
other in  its  place.  The  carpenter  is  under  the  juris- 
diction of  the  stage  manager  as  regards  what  shall  be 
used  in  the  setting  of  the  stage,  and  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  properties  employed  in  the  conduction  of 
the  scene.  Once  this  information  has  been  imparted 
and  firmly  settled  upon,  so  long  as  the  carpenter  per- 
forms his  work  properly,  the  position  allows  of  no 
interference,  nor  will  its  holder  permit  of  any  pre- 
sumptuous instruction  by  the  stage  manager  in  the 


— 7— 

discharge  of  his  duties.  It  is  so  with  all  the  mechan- 
ical departments  of  the  theatre.  That  is  right,  and 
so  long  as  the  heads  of  these  departments  are  men 
of  serious  purpose  and  mind  their  own  affairs,  and  do 
not  exert  unwarranted  officiousness  in  the  discharge 
of  their  duties,  and  the  stage  manager  is  equally 
mindful  of  the  proper  conduction  of  his  office,  there 
is  no  trouble.  This  fitting  balance  is  most  desirable. 
But  when  it  is  wanting,  the  condition  arising  is  most 
annoying. 

Right  here  I  wish  to  state  that  I  believe  in  organized 
labor  when  done  for  the  purpose  of  self-improvement 
amongst  its  individuals,  and  to  maintain  a  rightful 
claim  for  protection  against  indifferent  appreciation 
and  ill-sufficient  wages,  and  with  the  show  of  a  re- 
spectful spirit  of  cheerful  compliance  with  any  sen- 
sible adjustment  of  differences  that  may  arise  from 
time  to  time  between  employer  and  employee.  But 
for  the  union  of  organized  labor  engendered  in  the 
undue  influence  exercised  by  some  too  ambitious  lead- 
ers, misunderstanding  and  often  unheeding  the  fact 
that  in  all  human  strife  there  must  ever  exist  an  in- 
equality in  the  distribution  of  worldly  possessions,  and 
not  knowing,  acknowledging  nor  striving  to  attain 
those  attributes  of  character  and  gained  understand- 
ing that  would  establish  sooner  any  desired  approxi- 
mation to  a  genuine  condition  of  social  equality  than 
the  ready  acceptance  of  unweighed  vaunting,  and  in 
this  misunderstanding  suffering  no  thought  nor  reason 
to  invade  his  mind  to  temper  any  sense  of  fancied 
injustice,  and  in  his  ignorant  obstinacy  ruthlessly 
stagnating  the  industry  of  another,  perhaps  at  the  peril 
of  lives,  and  at  last  finding  himself  alone  the  greatest 
sufferer,  —  for  such  a  union  of  organized  labor,  all 


privileges  of  press  and  public,  and  high  enforcement 
of  law  and  order  should  speak  out  in  unmistaken 
words  of  unretractable  detestation. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  herein  to  fix  in  the  mind  of 
any  reader  the  germ  of  anticipate  disturbance  fore- 
telling eventual  harmfulness  to  the  best  interests  of 
the  theatre.  To  the  contrary,  I  would  commend,  in 
its  main  effectualness,  the  well-directed  forces  of  the 
organized  body  of  theatrical  mechanics,  and  in  the 
highest  honesty  of  my  deep  devotion  to  the  theatre 
entreat  its  followers  to  labor  ever  for  the  condition 
of  harmony  in  their  co-operate  skill  in  embellishing 
the  beautiful  designs  of  the  institution  in  which  at 
the  present  day  they  play  so  prominent  a  part.  It 
is  with  a  desire  to  see  this  condition  carefully  pre- 
served, that  herein  I  would  entreat  this  necessary 
adjunct  to  the  highest  development  of  the  theatre 
to  guard  against  and  crush  any  evident  and  growing 
spirit  of  indifference  to  the  attainment  of  best  results 
by  an  over-zealous  adherence  to  the  too  often  unjust 
demands  of  the  unionism  of  organized  labor,  albeit  a 
sense  of  honest  belief  may  pervade  its  unenlight- 
ened direction. 

To-day  when  mechanical  ingenuity  in  its  varied 
forms,  and  "  sensational  features  "  dependent  on  the 
skill  and  dexterity  of  the  mechanics  furnishing  and 
effecting  them,  play  so  important  a  part  in  the  prepa- 
ration and  exhibition  of  a  theatrical  vehicle,  and  which 
are  selected  in  many  cases  with  greater  care  and  labor 
than  the  artists  to  be  employed  in  the  revealing  of  the 
author's  diction,  it  is  not  hard  to  understand  that 
such  responsibility,  falling  upon  men  saturated  with 
the  boisterous  clamor  of  their  associate  constituency, 
should  often  lead  to  a  condition  of  indiscreet  conten- 


tion  and  unmerited  importance.  At  this  juncture  is 
most  needed  the  presence  of  the  stage  manager  in  pos- 
session of  the  truly  high  qualities  essential  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  his  office,  encouraged  and  upheld  by  the 
business  representative  in  whose  hands  is  placed  the 
protection  of  the  property  thus  jeopardized.  But  it  is 
seldom  that  either  of  the  last  mentioned  two  condi- 
tions is  apparent. 

The  stage  manager  of  to-day  is  in  quality  of  service 
hardly  more  than  a  mechanic  in  degree  of  dignity  as 
concerns  the  routine  of  his  office.     It  may  be  truly 
said  that  the  office  often  proves  an  immediate  line  of 
promotion  from  the  grade  of  mechanic;   for  it  exists 
to-day  a  trust  of  no  real  distinction  in  the  direction 
of   artistic   accomplishment    requiring  exceptional  in- 
telligence, talent  and  refinement.     The  mechanic  has 
at  least  served  an  apprenticeship,  and  in  so  far  as 
his  duties  may  extend  is  truly  a  skilled  artisan.    And 
so  to-day  instead  of  finding  a  man  equal  or  superior 
to  his  environments  in  knowledge  and  culture,  we  too 
often  endure  a  person  lacking  in  all  the  essentials 
necessary  to  the  proper  solicitation  of  command,  obe- 
dience and  esteem  from  those  over  whom  he  is  placed 
in  authority.     His  views  of  the  institution  that  sus- 
tains him,  and  of  the  profession  for  which  he  clamors 
pretended  favor,  seldom  rise  above  a  common  under- 
standing shared  by  the  vast  majority  wavering  on  an 
indivisible  condition  that  immerges  in  its   nameless 
vapidity,  the  widely  marked  difference  of  the  con- 
tradistinctive  titles,  —  artist  and  artisan,  —  and  that 
readily  applies  to  every  phase  and  promotive  project 
of  the  theatre,  the  common  term  —  business. 

Thus,  the  actor  of  to-day,  striving  for  anything  high 
in  the  designs  of  the  theatre,  filled  with  a  desire  to 


—10— 

labor  in  a  field  of  artistic  endeavor,  serious,  studious 
and  justly  ambitious,  is  often  overridden,  unjustly 
censured,  and  many  times  openly  insulted  by  this  whif- 
fling autocrat,  void  of  any  sense  of  justice  or  proper 
manhood,  and  totally  incapable  of,  and  indifferent  to, 
any  just  appreciation  of  tact  or  discernment  which 
might  enable  him  to  separate  and  properly  estimate 
in  individual  effort  the  opposite  qualities,  —  reality  of 
purpose,  and  falsity  of  pretence,  —  and  duly  reward 
the  one  and  rebuke  the  other.  The  petty  indignities 
suffered  through  the  injustice  of  many  so-called  stage 
managers,  such  as  the  imprudent  distribution  of  dress- 
ing rooms  and  the  attendant  abuses,  the  evident  par- 
tialities, the  insults  and  rebukes  publicly  posted  on 
the  call  boards  of  the  visited  theatre,  and  many  other 
injuries  inflicted  by  these  busy  officials,  are  too  con- 
temptuously distasteful  to  warrant  the  waste  of  a  par- 
ticle of  ink.  Often  he  gradually  shifts  many  of  the 
most  irksome  duties  on  to  an  assistant,  and  not  in- 
frequently to  the  property  man  of  the  company.  Many 
times  the  transplacing  of  this  power  into  such  irra- 
tional, inexperienced  channels,  augments  and  aggra- 
vates the  more  the  already  too  unbearable  condition 
of  abused  trust. 

A  few  years  ago  an  actor  of  nearly  sixty  years'  ser- 
vice on  the  stage  (a  creator  of  parts  through  forty 
years  of  New  York  reputation)  was  interrupted  and 
reprimanded  at  a  rehearsal  most  insultingly  (by  one 
of  this  class  of  stage  managers)  for  an  insignificant, 
inconsequential  matter  that  bore  no  relation  to  any 
possible  detriment  to  the  play,  nor  author's  intention 
of  the  part,  that  later  was  to  be  so  masterly  interpreted 
by  this  gentlemanly  and  finished  old  actor.  The  owner 
of  the  play  confessed  that  this  stage  manager  was 


—11— 

engaged  solely  through  the  astonishing  ability  he  dis- 
played in  organizing  and  managing  the  stage  de- 
partments of  numerous  amateur  companies  in  a  large 
theatrical  centre.  Among  amateurs  of  any  conse- 
quence at  all,  there  exists  an  undeniable  acumen,  cou- 
pled with  superior  intelligence,  culture  and  refinement 
that  is  sadly  lacking  in  the  average  condition  of  the 
professional  actor  in  America  to-day,  whose  only  grace 
is  in  the  advantage  of  repeated  performances  which 
lend  finally  a  desirable  smoothness  and  finish.  The 
amateur  is  afforded  no  such  opportunity.  It  is  not 
a  surprising  feat  to  guarantee  a  commendable  per- 
formance by  intelligent  amateurs.  The  professional 
coach  feels  the  superior  environments  surrounding  the 
best  amateur  organizations.  He  dares  not  inflict  upon 
these  ladies  and  gentlemen  the  offences  he  unmitigat- 
ingly  commits  when  succumbing  to  the  condition  of 
professionalism  in  stage  affairs  in  America  to-day. 
The  reason  is  only  too  palpable.  The  general  average 
status  of  the  actor  to-day  does  not  compel  his  best 
deportment  and  manners,  and  he  furthermore  has  not 
that  just  appreciation  of  tact  and  discernment  to  in- 
telligently distinguish  of  their  separate  qualities. 

Stage  affairs  in  America  to-day  make  it  possible 
for  a  man  to  remain  permanently  in  a  large  theatrical 
centre  and  superintend  the  production  of  plays  alone. 
A  few  men  do  this  work  sufficiently  well  to  win  the 
encomiums  of  managers  by  supplying  in  the  place  of 
methodical  arrangement,  sane  evolvement,  logical  de- 
velopment and  artistic  finish,  a  feverish  tension  of  ca- 
pricious ideas  and  whimsical  actions;  or  by  furnish- 
ing mean  copies  of  indifferent  originals.  But  most 
often  the  material  furnished  them  is  as  feeble  and 
inane  as  its  producing  agency.  Anything  of  intrinsic 


—12— 

literary  worth  and  high  dramatic  possibilities  placed 
in  such  hands  exposes  at  once  their  general  unfitness 
for  the  sterling  qualities  of  the  position.  It  is  through 
the  encouragement  to-day  by  monopolistic  theatrical 
venture  of  this  dualistic  condition  of  inferior  matter 
and  inadequate  producers  that  the  high  office  of  stage 
manager  is  now  very  nearly  a  lost  power. 

It  is  agreeable  and  of  ready  willingness  to  state, 
that  during  the  past  few  seasons  there  has  been  in- 
stalled in  the  office  of  general  stage  director,  by  one 
of  the  controlling  powers  of  theatrical  speculation,  a 
man  who  is  all  that  could  be  desired  for  the  discharge 
of  the  true  functions  of  the  office  of  stage  manager. 
Possessing  the  qualifications  and  superior  talent  essen- 
tial to  the  best  execution  of  such  a  position;  trained 
and  prepared  in  all  the  fitting  and  appropriate 
branches  of  the  drama  from  its  most  classic  form, 
standard  models,  highest  comedy,  to  the  lightest  tex- 
ture of  farce;  associated  from  his  earliest  theatrical 
life  with  the  best  tradition  and  experience  could  offer. 
Were  the  power  through  which  he  operates  heedful  or 
provident  of  the  highest  mission  of  the  theatre,  and 
this  gentleman  as  faithful  still  to  his  ideals,  the  ad- 
herence to  which  has  hitherto  gained  for  him  his  dis- 
tinction and  maintenance,  what  a  strife  for  good  in 
stage  affairs  in  America  to-day  might  ensue!  But 
judging  by  the  few  years  through  which  this  stipula- 
tion has  worked,  we  can  discern  no  ray  of  light  that 
would  herald  a  belief  that  the  dawn  that  follows  would 
spread  into  any  bright  day  of  glorious  future  for  the 
best  desired  ends  of  the  drama.  We  can  not  but  be- 
lieve that  this  adjunctive  agent  has  been  encased  in 
the  cogs  of  this  great  wheel  (the  power  of  whose 
machinery  turns  out  drama  as  the  mills  the  paper  and 


—13— 

ink  that  sketch  it),  and  that  he  has  succumbed  to  the 
inevitable  weakness  that  draws  all  minor  factors  into 
this  to-day's  common  whirl  of  commercial  greediness. 
Call  him  what  you  will,  —  manager,  director,  super- 
visor, or  any  significant  title,  —  it  is  not  the  mere  nom- 
inal stipulation  we  would  correct,  but  the  constantly 
degenerating  condition  that  is  endangering  a  proper 
authority  and  essential  dignity  in  the  vital  force  of  the 
stage  department  of  the  institution  of  the  theatre.  It 
is  between  the  highest  development  of  this  force  and 
the  ablest  endeavors  through  honesty  and  integrity  of 
business  efficacy  that  the  just  balance  of  theatrical  ex- 
position should  ever  swing. 


Number  Five  of  "  Stage  Affairs,"  appearing  Feb- 
ruary 12,  1907,  concerns: 

THE   THEATRE   ORCHESTRA 

ITS     ENFORCED     PROTRUSIVE     OBEDIENCE. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  Inclusive 


NUMBER  FIVE  FEBRUARY  12,  1907 


STAGE   AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs* 


No.     1.     The  Playwright.     The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.     2.     The  Business  Manager.     His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.     3.     The  Actor.     The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.     4.     The    Stage    Manager.      His     Decaying 
Power. 


Copyright,    1907 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 

—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


V. 
THE   THEATRE   ORCHESTRA. 

ITS    ENFORCED    PROTRUSIVE    OBEDIENCE. 

The  theatre  orchestra,  under  the  leadership  of  a 
skilled,  earnest  and  experienced  director,  is  a  most 
necessary  and  powerful  adjunct  towards  the  attain- 
ment of  high  results  in  the  conduction  of  a  theatre 
and  its  stage  performances,  and  when  its  members 
are  truly  proficient  and  attentive  to  the  proper  dis- 
charge of  their  duties,  they  should  at  all  times  com- 
mand the  respect,  sympathy  and  support  of  both 
business  and  stage  authorities  front  and  back  of  the 
curtain  line.  In  all  theatres  of  any  distinction  what- 
soever, the  orchestras  are  composed  of  instrumental- 
ists who  may  with  justification  lay  honest  claim  to 
the  title  —  artist.  These  musicians  have  prepared, 
progressed  and  perfected  their  special  art  to  that  de- 
gree that  truly  entitles  them  to  rightfully  profess  and 
practice  it.  Such  attainment  has  been  at  the  expense 
of  many  years  of  labor  and  a  liberal  expenditure  of 
money.  Truly,  in  an  impartial  estimate,  can  this  be 


— 2— 

rightfully  said  of  at  least  nine-tenths  of  the  actors 
in  America  today  who  are  clamoring  for  place  and 
recognition  in  the  predominant  element  of  the  stage 
—  the  play? 

Just  so  long  as  the  musician  properly  maintains  his 
special  function,  he  should  be  held  in  proper  dignity, 
consideration  and  credence.  But  the  music  should  not, 
however,  be  any  more  than  an  adjunctive  force,  sub- 
servient to,  augmenting  and  embellishing  the  chief 
feature  of  the  theatre  —  the  play.  As  such  it  is  an 
important  factor,  and  may  readily  add  to,  or  detract 
from  the  general  value  of  a  play  (according  to  the 
measure  of  its  importance)  by  the  congruity  or  in- 
congruity of  its  connection,  by  a  complemental  or  in- 
sufficient condition  of  instruments,  and  by  the  adequacy 
or  insufficiency  of  its  rendition.  Too  little  importance 
is  placed  upon  the  condition  of  music  in  theatres  in 
America  today!  Too  little  regard  is  shown  for  its 
congruity,  completeness  and  adequacy  as  a  necessary 
auxiliary  for  a  better  furtherance  of  the  play.  There 
are  a  few  theatres  where  these  conditions  approximate 
satisfaction,  and  some  travelling  combinations  worth- 
ily adhere  to  a  high  standard  in  the  employment  of 
music  as  an  embellishment  to  the  play,  but  with  the 
great  majority  of  managements  the  best  functions  of 
the  orchestra  are  seriously  impaired  by  an  enforced 
protrusive  obedience  to  the  demands  of  the  authorities 
in  their  estimate  as  to  what  the  play  requires  and  the 
public  wants. 

The  theatre  orchestra  of  today  too  often  forsakes 
its  proper  office  of  graceful  subserviency  to  vie  with 
the  predominant  factor  of  the  theatre,  the  play,  in  its 
contribution  to  the  evening's  entertainment.  This  is 


true  of  orchestras  in  theatres  of  first-class  distinction. 
Doubtless  there  are  instances  when  both  the  material 
offered,  and  the  quality  of  its  rendition  by  the  musi- 
cians surpasses  in  point  of  genuine  merit  that  of  ttu 
play  and  players.  But  the  fact  that  the  orchestr- 
sometimes  so  outbids  the  stage  performance  in  its  i 
intentional  appeal  for  public  approval,  does  not  right- 
fully warrant  a  wilful  usurpation  of  its  proper  uses, 
nor  an  insistent  firmness  on  the  part  of  the  authorities 
in  front  to  encourage  and  maintain  such  pleasing  im- 
pudence. In  my  observance  of  stage  affairs,  I  have 
seen  few  instances  where  any  direct  blame  for  the 
existence  of  the  above-mentioned  condition  could  be 
charged  to  the  leader  of  the  orchestra. 

If  appropriate  entr'acte  numbers  have  not  been  pro- 
vided by  the  visiting  company,  the  resident  leader 
must  select  his  own  programme.  And  often  in  so 
doing  he  is  instructed  to  play  something  lively  be- 
tween the  acts ;  something  to  "  wake  'em  up."  Con- 
sequently it  is  no  uncommon  occurrence  to  hear  im- 
mediately before  some  act  of  serious  import,  religious 
solemnity  or  tragic  awfulness,  a  potpourri  of  "  pop- 
ular airs  "  with  a  grand  finish  by  the  dexterous  skill 
of  the  artist  on  the  vulgarly  pleasing  xylophone,  with 
the  unescapable  encore  or  two.  It  is  a  fact  which 
cannot  be  gainsaid  that  renditions  of  that  calibre  are 
never  rudely  interrupted  in  an  impatient  desire  to 
begin  the  next  act.  They  are  often  highly  enjoyed 
and  appreciated  even  by  the  artistic  authority  who 
flashes  the  footlights,  and  who,  at  other  times,  cuts 
short  at  a  most  inappropriate  measure  some  highly 
ambitious  and  worthy  rendering  by  the  musicians  of 
the  theatre,  who  in  turn  are  often  called  upon  to  fill 


in  some  tedious  wait,  which,  although  often  unavoid- 
able, is  frequently  occasioned  by  the  irregular,  un- 
tactful  and  self-centred  practises  of  discontented,  des- 
potic and  vainglorious  stars  and  stage  managers.  To 
this  duty  the  artists  of  the  orchestra  gracefully  and 
otherwise  comply. 

But  there  is  a  palpable  indiscretion  and  inexcusable 
offence  habitually  committed  by  the  musicians  of  the 
theatre  orchestra  which  is  as  unpardonable,  and  in 
view  of  the  acknowledged  condition  of  its  subserviency 
to  that  of  the  player,  more  to  be  censured  than  any 
infringement  made  by  the  latter  on  the  rights  of  the 
musician.  I  refer  to  the  disrespectful  and  annoying 
custom  of  the  musician  in  abruptly  and  uncere- 
moniously leaving  and  returning  to  his  desk  during 
the  progress  and  action  of  the  play.  It  is  often  done 
at  most  inopportune  moments,  and  with  utter  disre- 
gard and  inconsideration  for  the  actor.  And  no  doubt 
to  the  small  annoyance  of  the  nearest  auditors.  His 
eagerness  to  seek  the  relaxation  that  the  music  room 
affords  is  equally  as  precipitate  as  is  his  hurried  tardi- 
ness in  resuming  his  desk,  arranging  his  light  and 
music,  picking  up  his  instrument,  and  as  abruptly  and 
unceremoniously  resuming  his  task  as  he  had  left  off 
with  it.  During  the  progress  of  the  play,  when  not 
engaged  in  the  performance  of  his  duty,  the  musician's 
condition  should  be  that  of  passive  subordinacy. 

I  do  not  believe  in  the  custom  of  orchestral  selec- 
tions between  the  acts  of  a  play,  and  most  especially 
when  they  partake  of  the  wildest  forms  of  incongruity, 
and  ambitious  proportions  entirely  out  of  all  possi- 
bilities of  the  limited  and  meagre  distribution  of  in- 
struments. If  a  play  be  worthy  of  any  consideration, 


fitting  music  should  be  employed  to  truly  embellish 
and  beautify  its  theme  and  variations ;  and  an  orches- 
tra of  sufficient  numbers  and  individual  proficiency 
should  be  engaged  to  properly  render  its  highest  sig- 
nificance. And  I  believe  that  the  functions  of  such 
an  organization  should  be  completely  entrusted  to  the 
discernment  of  some  capable  leader,  with  untampered 
authority  to  adjust  or  augment  the  condition  of  his 
band  to  the  highest  requirements  of  the  music  to  be 
employed.  I  believe  in  an  appropriate  overture  to 
the  play ;  fitting  preludes  to  its  acts ;  characteristic 
meaning  and  coloring  to  the  incidental  employment 
of  music,  and  a  foretellant  suggestion,  in  the  ante- 
cedent finales,  prophetic  of  the  catastrophe  of  the  play ; 
and  then  following,  a  subsequent  condition  of  appro- 
priateness in  the  arrangement  of  music  that  may  serve 
the  purposes  of  a  postlude  to  a  fitting  finale  in  the 
musical  accompaniment  of  the  play.  The  intermission 
between  the  acts  should  be  given  over  to  a  discussion 
of  the  play  and  players  (or  to  such  conversation  as  the 
auditor  chooses). 

Today  the  rude  indifference  to  the  serious  efforts 
of  the  theatre  orchestra  between  the  acts  is  a  mockery 
to  its  best  intentioned  purpose.  Its  present  condition 
satisfies  neither  critical  nor  uncritical.  Its  proper 
functions  are  ignored  and  abused;  and  its  condition 
of  forced  irrelevancy  to  the  motive  and  action  of  the 
play  makes  it  an  adjunct  more  fittingly  to  be  dispensed 
with  by  managers  and  actors  of  any  sense  of  just  pro- 
portions in  dramatic  exhibitions,  than  a  worthy  factor 
of  embellishing  import,  indispensable  to  the  highest 
designs  of  the  play,  and  the  natural  medium  of  ex- 
pression to  keep  in  unbroken,  harmonious  continuity 


its  predominant  theme.  Today  when  all  conditions 
tend  towards  marked  and  increasing  facility  in  dexter- 
ously setting  and  "  striking  "  the  scenery,  there  is  no 
excuse  for  long  waits  between  the  acts.  There  should 
be  a  decided  tendency  to  shorten  them,  and  by  the 
assistance  of  fitting  music,  to  more  closely  connect  the 
incidents  of  the  preceding  act  to  that  which  is  to 
follow,  and  so  to  neatly  dovetail  each  separate  part 
into  one  harmonious  entirety.  We  should  banish  from 
further  chance  the  unfair  meth©ds  of  the  manager 
to  eke  out,  by  such  protracted  waits,  an  ordinary  per- 
formance of  an  all  too  evident  condition  of  briefness 
in  his  play.  By  dispensing  with  the  long-established 
custom  of  an  orchestral  number,  and  to  adhere  instead 
to  a  reasonable  degree  of  brevity,  would  stir  the  stage 
folk  to  the  necessity  of  abandoning  many  whims  and 
vanities,  ill-moods  and  tempers  that  find  an  outlet  in 
the  abuse  of  the  "  between-acts  "  respite.  And  still 
further,  it  would  encourage  to  better  effort  the  work- 
ing staff  of  the  theatre,  who  often  are  censured  for 
inactivity,  but  seldom  considered  when  made  to  wait 
upon  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  sometime  erratic  stage 
folk. 

I  believe  that  the  manager  and  actor  owe  to  the 
public  a  proper  adjustment  of  this  condition  of  "  stage 
wait."  No  longer  should  the  orchestra  be  made  the 
compellent  go-between,  in  allaying  this  imposition  by 
the  interpolation  of  unsuitable  selections,  often  to  be 
briefly  cut  short  without  consideration  or  consistency. 
Exalt  the  music  of  the  theatre  and  put  it  to  some 
genuine  worth!  Maintain  in  the  orchestra  a  comple- 
ment of  instruments  that  shall  adequately  and  with 
congruity  assist  to  preserve  the  continuity  of  the  play 


—7— 

and  enhance  its  worth.  Its  general  purposes  now  as  a 
divertisement  to  the  play  seem  as  incongruous  and 
prodigal  as  would  the  introduction  of  miscellaneous 
readings  by  a  band  of  elocutionists  between  the  acts 
of  an  opera  performance  for  the  mere  sake  of  variety. 
If  opera  managements  can  approximately  control  the 
"  stage  wait,"  dramatic  authorities  should  be  able  to 
do  likewise. 

The  orchestra  should  occupy  its  present  location  in 
the  theatre,  but  be  sunk  lower,  and  obscured  from  the 
audience  by  a  portable  partition,  oval  shape,  rising 
from  its  outer  floor  border,  and  curving  until  it  meet 
and  join  the  level  of  the  stage,  where  apertures  should 
be  supplied,  immediately  front  and  back  of  the  foot- 
lights, to  sufficiently  convey  the  volume  of  tone  neces- 
sary to  the  demands  of  dramatic  effectualness.  A 
code  of  incandescent  light  signals  governing  the  cues 
( red  for  "  warning,"  white  to  "  take  up,"  and  blue 
to  "  leave  off,"  with  speaking  wire  for  accompanying 
instructions  as  to  tempi  and  other  varying  music 
forms)  should  be  established  between  the  stage  man- 
ager and  orchestra  leader.  That  is  all  stage  detail, 
and  should  be  placed  in  the  responsible  care  of  its 
proper  authority.  The  vicious  custom  of  "  flashing 
the  foots,"  and  sometimes  audibly  instructing  the 
leader  from  the  stage,  should  be  totally  eliminated. 
Any  vocal  selection  employed  in  the  action  of  a  drama 
should  find  its  accompaniment  in  the  environments  of 
the  stage  scene  wherein  it  is  introduced.  In  the  event 
of  opera  performances,  this  portable  partition  could 
readily  be  removed  to  preserve  the  essential  relation 
between  conductor  and  singer,  and  to  give  full  scope 
to  the  predominant  element  of  all  genuine  opera,  —  its 


music,  as  heard  through  the  art  of  composer,  singer 
and  musician,  to  which  must  ever  remain  in  subserv- 
iency the  necessary  adjunctive  elements  of  dramatic 
action  and  stage  display.  The  manager  makes  no 
hesitancy  in  placing  the  orchestra  under  the  stage 
to  add  a  few  miserly  dollars  to  his  treasury  when 
extraordinary  business  is  being  enjoyed.  Why  not  do 
it  for  all  time,  and  do  it  right  f  As  the  orchestra  is 
arranged  now,  more  tact  should  be  used  in  arranging 
the  music  of  the  play,  or  the  leader  be  empowered  to 
engage  extra  musicians  when  music  is  to  be  employed 
both  front  and  back  during  the  progress  of  any  one 
act  in  the  play.  As  it  exists  now,  it  remains  a  custom 
impolite,  clumsy,  and  disturbing,  and  the  orchestra  in 
the  foreground  is  a  blemish  to  the  highest  approximate 
attainment  of  illusiveness  in  the  stage  picture,  claim- 
ing as  it  does  the  fencible  ground,  that  must  of  its 
sightly  importance,  arrest  a  complete  visual  access 
to  the  play. 

The  exhibition  and  maintenance  of  rational  musical 
entertainment,  as  a  balance  to  dramatic  divertisement, 
is  as  desirable  and  needful  to  a  healthy  condition  of 
the  theatre,  and  a  counteractive  benefit  to  the  commu- 
nity, as  is  the  reciprocal  wise  distribution  of  sunshine 
and  rain  to  the  land  and  its  inhabitants.  But  an  over- 
oppressiveness  of  either  is,  beyond  argument,  injurious, 
and  when  that  oppression  partakes  of  a  lavarous  form 
of  severity,  it  is  dangerous,  and  often  deadly.  The 
stage  today  sizzles  with  lavarous  musical  matter.  It 
is  alive  with  disordered  precipitantness  from  unac- 
countable sources.  There  should  be  a  standard  of 
special  qualification  required  of  the  composers  and  in- 
terpreters of  musical  entertainment.  Today  it  is,  for 


-9- 


the  most  part,  in  the  hands  of  empiricism.  Composers, 
singers,  actors  and  conductors  alike.  There  are,  of 
course,  a  few  exponents  of  these  vocations,  particu- 
larly in  the  cases  of  composer  and  conductor,  who  find 
justly  merited  recognition  and  employment  for  their 
skill;  but  the  general  condition  of  vocal  and  corned' 
effort  is  in  a  very  distorted  state  of  impoverishmer, 
The  condition  of  the  material  they  labor  to  interpict 
is  partly  to  blame  for  this.  There  are  numerous  con- 
cocters  of  these  so-called  musical  comedies,  posing 
as  composers,  with  no  fundamental  knowledge  of  lyri- 
cal or  musical  composition,  or  an  ability  even  to  write 
on  the  stave  a  simple  melody  (sometimes  not  even 
with  the  aid  of  an  instrument).  He  must  seek  the 
services  of  a  trained  musician.  Although  there  are 
still  many  capable  conductors  being  maintained  by 
first-class  managers,  there  are  nevertheless  many  who 
can  claim  no  more  right  to  their  position  than  an  in- 
complete knowledge  of  the  technique  of  the  piano 
might  grant  them.  And  yet  such  boldly  presume  to 
train  singers  and  direct  skilled  musicians.  And  all 
these  conditions  find  favor  and  encouragement  with  the 
theatrical  speculator.  This  state  of  affairs  can  not  be 
corrected  until  the  manager  assumes  his  trust  honestly, 
and  admits  of  no  solicitations  to  his  offices  that  have 
not  qualified  for  their  separate  arts.  How  can  there 
be  rational  musical  entertainment  and  light  opera  when 
the  arts  of  composer  and  singer  (their  predominant 
forces)  are  usurped  by  the  charlatanry  of  unqualified 
substitution,  and  the  comedy  supplied  mostly  through 
the  mediums  of  freakishness,  vocal  and  acrobatic  con- 
tortion, coarseness  and  impossible  dialects?  The  only 
intrinsic  conditions  that  keep  such  a  flimsy  melange 


—10— 

from  hopeless  disj ointment  are  the  qualified  arts  of 
musician,  scene  painter  and  skilled  mechanic.  The 
theatre  today  is  indeed  a  "  show  business." 

In  concluding  this  chapter  I  mention  briefly  a  con- 
dition existing  in  the  fraternal  body  of  musicians  which 
threatens  to  impede  and  stay  the  best  aims  of  its  indi- 
viduals, and  through  such    enforced    stagnacy,  must 
slowly,  but  constantly,  corrupt  the  entire  body.     The 
musician  of  the  theatre  today,  be  he  of  mediocre  qual- 
ity or  of  superior  worth  in  the  exhibition  of  his  art, 
is  seized,  held  and  driven  by  the  despotic  hand  and 
lash  of  unionism.     He  may  be  of  exceptional  merit, 
and  most  essential  to  a  high  order  of  music  in  the 
theatre,  and  still  be  held  momentarily  subject  to  the 
arrogant  dictatorship  of  a  man  many  degrees  his  in- 
ferior, but  possessed  of    the    power    to    jeopardize 
another's  living  by  an  unreasonable  enforcement   of 
this  power,  thus  compromising  the  other's  standing, 
restricting  the  freedom  of  his  art,  and  placing  upon 
the  finer  vocation  of  the  musician  the  same   menial 
condition  of  dependency  and  subserviency  in  common 
with  many  lower  and  coarser  fields  of  labor,  whose 
ranks  are  mostly  filled  with  unfortunate  men,  ignorant 
of  the  flimsiness  of  the  standard  they  are  following, 
and  stubborn  in  their  determination  to  remain  thus  un- 
enlightened.    The  musician  can  never  expect  to  find 
in  the  honest  promoter  and  patron  of  art,  just  appre- 
ciation, sympathy  and  support,  so  long  as  he  binds 
himself  to  the  fetters  of  narrow  dictation  which  seeks 
to  unjustly  interrupt  and  restrict  the  privileges,  prac- 
tices and  freedom  of  his  art.     Such  a  condition  can 
react  but  temporarily  to  the   embarrassment,   incon- 
venience and  injury  of  that  same  promoter  and  patron, 


—11— 

—  the  benefactors  of  the  individual  submitting  to  such 
injudicious  jurisdiction  of  salaried  meddlers.  The  sub- 
ject of  such  gullibility  loses  most,  and  often  all.  A  man 
becomes  but  an  ass  in  leading-strings  in  giving  heed 
to  such  impromptu  knavery.  He  is  unworthy  to 
adorn  any  art,  especially  one  whose  sphere  of  activity 
is  universal,  and  in  the  proper  devotion  and  practice 
of  which  his  own  self-reliant  and  individual  worthiness 
alone  should  control  the  highest  and  wisest  desire  for 
the  exercise  of  its  proper  functions. 


Number  Six  of  "  Stage  Affairs,"  appearing  Feb- 
ruary 19,  1907,  concerns : 

THE   DRAMATIC   CRITIC. 

THE  RIGHTFUL  CENSOR  J     BUT   NOT   MERELY  BY  "  COUR- 
TESY OF  THE  THEATRE." 


A  scries  of  L    :en  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER  Six  FEBRUARY  19,  1907 


STAGE   AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs.1 


No.    1.    The  Playwright.    The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.    2.    The  Business  Manager.    His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.    3.    The  Actor.    The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.    4.    The    Stage   Manager.      His    Decaying 
Power. 

No.    5.    The  Theatre  Orchestra.     Its  Enforced 
Protrusive  Obedience. 


Copyright,   1907 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 

—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


VI. 
THE   DRAMATIC   CRITIC. 

THE    RIGHTFUL    CENSOR;      BUT     NOT     MERELY    BY    THE 
"  COURTESY    OF    THE    THEATRE." 

The  very  speculative  nature  of  the  theatre  in  its 
public  appeal  for  patronage  is,  of  that  fact  alone, 
warrant  enough  for  the  imperative  need  of  an  es- 
tablished safeguard  against  imposture,  impropriety, 
and  impureness.  The  appointing  of  a  censor  through 
municipal  preferment  is  not,  in  this  country  at  least, 
either  wise  or  practical.  No  other  petty  practice  so 
quickly  unhinges  judgment,  equitableness  and  duty, 
as  that  of  permitting  free  access  to  the  environments 
of  the  theatre,  and  the  influences  of  its  people.  In 
many  theatres  scattered  throughout  America,  the  city 
or  town  authorities  are  still  allowed  the  privilege  of 
free  admission  to  its  amusement  places ;  and  it  is  in 
readily  granting  such  privilege  that  the  local  man- 
ager finds  his  aptest  license  to  exhibit  his  wares. 
Although  there  might  be  found  many  men  who  would 


with  unswerving  duty,  equity  and  wisdom  fulfil 
with  sound  proficiency  the  office  of  public  censor  in 
the  affairs  of  the  theatre,  notwithstanding,  the  same 
spirit  of  leniency,  readily  acquiescent  to  the  environ- 
ments of  the  stage,  would  be  liable  to  invite  unwise 
practice,  perhaps  to  a  dangerous  degree,  in  the  trust 
of  a  regularly  appointed  censor  to  the  theatre.  This 
disposition  is  apparent  in  many  instances  concerning 
the  charge  of  the  dramatic  critic;  for  frequently  he 
becomes  such  merely  "  by  courtesy  of  the  theatre." 
Nevertheless,  the  genuine  dramatic  critic, — that  re- 
liable, worthy  and  much  to  be  respected  criterion,  a 
person  fearless,  catholic  a"nd  impartial  in  the  art  of 
criticism,  one  upon  whose  judgment  we  may  rest  reas- 
onably secure  in  any  subsequent  inclination  to  wisely 
regulate  our  decisions,  —  such  an  one  is,  and  ever 
should  be  (by  every  sense  of  a  personal  fitness,  and 
the;  publicity  that  his  station  contains)  the  people's 
rightful  censor.  But  he  should  be  free  from  any 
bond  of  qualified  courteous  solicitation ;  and  the  organ 
that  instates  him  should  hold  no  covetous  concern- 
ment of  mere  advertising  gainfulness. 

Viewed  in  a  broad,  general  sense,  the  condition  of 
dramatic  art  in  America  today,  as  regards  both  writ- 
ing and  acting,  is  truly ,- 

"  an  unweeded  garden, 
.  .  .  things  rank  and  gross  in  nature 

Possess  it  merely." 

Doubtless  there  are  writers  who  might  accomplish 
worthy  things  if  made  free  and  encouraged  to  re- 
veal their  highest  flights  of  mental  imagery.  Some 
actors  there  are  today  battling  against  almost  insur- 
mountable barriers  to  maintain  a  well  established 


I 


—3— 

standard  of  artistic  endeavor ;  but  generally  considered, 
all  conditions  of  art  aim  in  the  theatre  in  America 
today  are  immerged  in  the  irresistible,  potent 
whirlpool  of  commercialism.  Consequently  it  is  not 
strange  that  the  art  of  dramatic  criticism,  (bearing 
as  it  does  in  the  administration  of  its  offices,  a  signal 
power  towards  the  furtherance  or  restriction  of  the 
condition  of  the  art  it  seeks  to  exalt  and  adjust), 
should  feel  the  rotary  force  of  this  vortical  authority, 
which,  in  the  compellent  nature  of  its  abnormal  supre- 
macy, must  as  readily  engulf  all  subservient  condi- 
tions. 

Dramatic  criticism  has  been  helplessly  slumping  into 
mere  journalism.  The  desirable  services  of  the  able 
and  accomplished  writer  of  critical  review  is  more  and 
more  each  day  giving  place  to  the  arrogant  demand 
for  the  unenlightened,  complaisant  notice  of  the  ver- 
satile journalist.  Two  reasons  in  the  main  are  re- 
sponsible for  this  alarming  condition.  First,  the  ab- 
normal development  of  monopolistic  venture,  in  its 
enormous  controlment  demands  the  necessity  of 
abnormally  regulating  and  controlling  the  mediums, 
which,  in  their  normal  functions,  stand  a  menace  to 
the  despotic,  irregular  practices  of  monopolists,  whose 
energies  are  impelled  solely  by  the  force  of  commer- 
cialism. And  in  the  second  place,  through  the  in- 
creasing disinclination  of  able  writers  towards  serious 
comment,  not  only  through  a  manifest  growing  in- 
indifference  and  abuse  of  its  office,  (jeopardizing  its 
dignity  and  worthiness),  but  also  because  of  the  feeble 
and  inconsequential  matter  promoted  by  this  state  of 
monopoly,  and  a  consequent  decadent  condition  of  the 
vocation  of  the  necessary  exposition  of  such  material, 
— the  actor. 


If  there  is  no  special  worth  in  the  matter  under 
consideration,  then  is  there  all  the  more  need  of  the 
critic.  But  it  is  in  the  exhibition  of  such  doubtful 
stuff  that  the  manager  must  exercise  his  ablest  powers 
of  advertising  skill  and  press  work.  He  must  pay 
well  to  advertise  such  wares.  In  return  he  demands 
said  —  the  truth,  if  compatible  with  commercial  inter- 
ests, if  not,  something  that  at  least  will  not  impair  the 
marketable  prospects  of  the  material  in  question. 
This  condition  allowed,  the  critic's  mission  ceases.  He 
who  would  yield  to  this  stipulation  proclaims  himself 
a  paid  hireling  to  maintain  merely  an  established 
vicious  policy;  a  condition  that  of  course  endangers 
his  worthy  office,  admitting  his  surrender  to  any  just 
claim  of  independent  thought  and  action,  qualities 
that  the  exaltedness  of  his  trust  should  ever  hold. 

Not  even  under  such  conditions  should  we  blame 
the  public  that  it  still  is  persistent  in  a  liberal  patron- 
age. Of  all  factors  swaying  the  theatre  it  is  the  least 
and  last  to  be  censured.  It  is  the  outward  visible 
condition  of  the  theatre  that  ever  confronts  it,  and 
whatsoever  the  promoters  choose  to  have  that  condi- 
tion, good,  bad  or  indifferent,  the  great  multitude  will 
ever  voluntarily  seek.  The  public  is  truly  faithful 
and  indulgent.  More  so  to  the  theatre  than  any- 
thing else  that  solicits  a  measure  of  their  earnings. 
In  buying  merchandise  and  finding  imperfections,  a 
remittance  is  asked,  or  equivalent  demanded,  and  it 
is  invariably  allowed.  Theatrical  material  today 
mostly  mere  merchandise;  but  there  is  no  substanti; 
means  of  reparation  for  its  imperfections  and  urn 
isfactory  interpretations.  But  the  true  condition 
the  critic,  if  firmly  re-instated  and  upheld,  might  fur- 


— 5— 

nish  a  safeguard  against  any  unwise  investment,  if 
this  public  would  but  seize,  respect  and  obey  it!  Es- 
tablish a  confiding  disposition  to  hear  and  heed — the 
critic,  the  rightful  censor,  and  thereby  compel  the 
manager  to  shield  himself  behind  that  barrier  he  often- 
times ventures  to  assail.  Oblige  him  to  say,  "  The 
critics  of  the  press  told  you  what  we  had,  why  didn't 
you  keep  away  ?  "  But  no,  the  manager  invites  your 
confidence,  imposes  upon  your  indulgence  and  faith- 
fulness, and  tells  you  that  the  critic  doesn't  know; 
he  bars  him  from  his  theatre;  he  appears  before  his 
curtain  and  assails  him.  Whom  is  the  public  to  be- 
lieve? The  total  non-existence  of  the  former,  or  a 
desire  on  the  managers'  part  to  respect  any  such  con- 
dition, (even  did  it  exist),  but  rather  to  completely 
remove  it,  conduces  and  viciously  prompts  the  defiant 
spirit  displayed  in  the  latter.  The  same  force  that 
seizes  upon  and  controls  all  conditions  of  the  theatre, 
the  monopolistic  force  of  commercialism,  also  sways 
and  controls  the  instrument  through  which  the  critic 
must  operate  —  the  great  news  organs  of  the  day. 
There  the  condition  of  criticism,  generally  speaking, 
waits  upon,  and  is  subservient  to,  the  same  policy 
that  in  common  importance  sways  the  general  trend 
of  the  news  organ  of  which  it  is  a  part 

Today  in  the  great  daily  newspapers,  we  can  read 
with  naked  eye  from  across  the  street,  the  "  horrors  " 
of  the  hour.  We  too  often  strain  our  eyes  and  repair 
to  strong  lenses  to  find  the  "  beautiful "  things.  It  is 
no  exaggeration  to  say,  that  often,  in  looking  upon  a 
single  page  of  a  newspaper,  we  might  see,  at  one  gaze, 
the  pictures  of  two  men,  one  perhaps  the  likeness  of  a 
newly  installed  clergyman  of  high  distinction,  and  the 


other  a  copy  of  a  photograph  taken  from  the 
"  rogue's  gallery ;"  the  greater  prominence  perhaps 
given  to  the  latter.  Events  of  universal  import,  for- 
tunate or  unhappy,  call  for  the  truth,  the  facts ;  but 
it  is  not  necessary  nor  proper  to  magnify  and  invent 
horrors  to  be  flashed  forth  under  lurid  headlines. 
Such  is  bait  to  insnare  people,  not  food  to  free  them. 
Yet  too  often  these  are  the  papers  that  sway  the 
masses,  that  rule  them!  Therefore  when  disgraceful 
and  calumnious  happenings  of  stage  environments 
receive  and  command  the  greater  space  and  atten- 
tion, what  real  incentive  is  there  to  arouse  the  true 
critic  to  the  stern  arduousness  and  high  dignity  of 
his  office?  None  but  cultured  men  and  women  of 
literary  taste  and  distinction,  learned  in,  devoted  to, 
and  possessed  of  special  discernment  in  the  art  of 
criticism,  should  be  called  to  such  an  onerous  trust. 
Such  a  state  of  affairs  is  of  imperative  need  now. 

We  cannot  properly  progress  without  an  honest 
condition  of  criticism.  It  is  a  power  which,  when 
justly  put  and  sanely  applied  (and  we  recognize  no 
other  sort)  constitutes  —  a  safety-valve  to  check  our 
faults  and  speed  our  merits.  Fool  is  he  who  tampers 
with  its  proper  functions!  The  critic,  if  he  be  one 
of  truly  deserving  credential,  establishes  a  st^idard 
by  which  to  judge.  If  you  reach  such  approximate- 
ly, or  even  approach  that  approximation,  togpraise 
you  is  with  him  a  strange  delight.  But  if  you  fall 
beneath,  or  entirely  of  that  standard,  it  is  the  critic's 
duty  to  himself,  to  you,  and  most  particularly  to  the 
public  to  say  so.  Do  not  believe  that  in  the  mind  of 
the  genuine  critic  there  lurks  behind  his  power  to 


x< 

(  UNIV? 
—7— 

sting,  the  slightest  thought  that  he  might  maim.     Too 
often  the  greater  pain  is  his. 

The  first  performance  of  a  play  or  player  of  any 
importance  whatsoever,  or  the  initial  appearance  of 
actor  or  actress  bidding  for  serious  consideration  in  a 
part  of  severe  proportions  (or  of  any  special  impor- 
tance in  stage  affairs)  should  be  attended  and  re- 
viewed by  the  dramatic  critic  of  every  reputable  news- 
paper and  periodical  in  the  locality  in  which  such 
initiatory  essayal  takes  place.  If  these  critics  be 
honest  and  generally  proficient  in  the  art  they  profess, 
while  they  may  often  differ  materially  in  their  dis- 
cernment of  the  minor  details  of  the  play  and  players, 
nevertheless  they  must  sufficiently  agree  in  the  vital 
elements  that  maintain  their  highest  character,  to  be 
able  to  present  to  the  public  a  judgment  upon  which 
it  may  safely  determine  the  desirability  or  no  of  an 
indulgence  of  the  exhibit  in  question.  The  author  or 
actor  claiming  clemency  for  this  initial  performance 
readily  admits  a  state  of  hurriedness  and  unprepared- 
ness  which  truly  exists  most  generally  in  the  theatre 
in  America  today.  A  condition  seriously  retarding 
any  worthy  inclination  for  art  advancement.  For  the 
critic  to  humor  such  bid  for  leniency  would  only  be  to 
increase  this  lamentable  state  of  shiftless  indifference 
to  art  tendencies,  and  to  inflict  upon  the  public  all  the 
more  the  much  too  prevalent  custom  of  "  working  a 
play  into  shape  "  by  imposing  upon  this  public's  in- 
dulgence through  the  imperfection  of  these  first  per- 
formances. A  discriminate  distribution  of  compli- 
mentary tickets  and  the  ever  apparent  "  first-nighters," 
(the  unchronicled  wisdom  of  the  play  house),  fur- 
nishes a  desirable  balance  to  the  fashioning  of  a  just 


estimate  of  any  initial  performance  that  has  under- 
gone honest  preparation.  Then  let  the  public  hear 
its  censor. 

The  actor  is  loath  to  admit  adverse  criticism ;  he  is 
quick  to  accept,  and  think  true,  any  word  of  flattery. 
This  is  an  universal  trait  in  man,  it  is  true,  but  in  the 
actor  the  condition  is  alarming.  He  spends  hours  in 
abusing  the  individual  who  instigates  his  displeasure, 
but  seldom,  if  ever,  gives  a  moment's  thought  to  any 
possible  accrument  that  may  add  to  his  condition  by 
an  unfeverish,  reflective  consideration  of  the  criticism 
offered.  Criticism  honestly  given,  even  though  it  be 
not  always  entirely  sagacious,  must  bear  some  sort  of 
advantage  to  the  recipient  if  he  has  the  wisdom  to 
accept  and  sift  it.  There  are  critics  today  in  Ameri- 
ca whose  writings  should  be  a  constant  source  of 
study  and  profit  to  the  actor.  That  they  seldom  are, 
but  to  the  contrary  remain  unread  and  unsought,  or 
are  cast  aside  with  abrupt  comments,  (compromising 
only  to  the  provoker),  or,  perhaps,  in  an  assumed  at- 
titude of  defense,  used  as  a  mean  advertising  medium, 
is  a  condition  truly  prevalent  in  AmeBca  today. 

It  is  true  that  a  deplorable  abuse  If  the  offices  of 
criticism  exists  in  many  of  the  departments  devoted 
to  the  drama  in  the  great  daily  papers  of  America 
today.  It  is  genuine  cause  for  just  censure  in  the 
quarter  from  which  it  issues,  and  justifiable  reason 
for  ready  sympathy  for  the  actor.  This  form  of 
criticism  descends  to  the  vicious  practices  that  do  most 
readily  appeal  to  the  ever  present  clamor  for  flavorous, 
sensational  reading,  a  condition  today,  which,  in  the 
alarming  competition  for  supremacy  in  circulation,  is 
firmly  discoloring  many  formerly  cleaner  sheets 


— 9— 

into  a  fast  and  perilous  yellow  dye.  Just  reproach  is 
here  supplanted  by  ill-mannered  ridicule,  sometimes 
when  not  even  the  former  would  be  justifiable.  This 
condition  of  criticism  often  makes  targets  of  some  of 
the  few  really  worthy  personages,  (who,  by  untiring 
energy  and  serious  devotion  to  the  art  they  honor, 
have  placed  themselves  at  the  top  of  their  profession), 
targets  at  which  the  servile  agents  of  this  sorry  condi- 
tion may  shoot  the  venomous  shafts  of  their  un- 
reasoned opinions  and  prejudices.  Yet,  in  spite  of 
this  fact,  the  vast  multitude  of  actors  in  America  to- 
day eagerly  seek,  devour  and  apparently  relish,  in  its 
general  survey,  this  type  of  journalism,  and  seldom 
turn  to  the  pages  of  a  newspaper  with  a  general  policy 
more  rational  and  less  dangerous  at  least,  (in  that  it 
appeals  more  to  the  reasoning,  and  less  to  the  sensual 
forces),  and  whose  contents  is  not  predominantly  a 
matter  of  alluring  headlines,  exaggerated  detail  and 
profane  caricatures,  and  where  the  subject  of  dram- 
atic criticism  receives  at  least  serious  and  earnest  at- 
tention, and  in  some  instances  is  yet  unfettered  by 
commercial  shackles  and  arrogant  autocracy. 

It  is  truly  necessary  for  the  protection  and  edifi- 
cation of  the  public,  and  for  the  cause  of  true  art  in 
the  drama,  that  this  retrograde  condition  be  checked, 
and  that  the  high  charge  of  criticism  be  re-instated 
and  left  free  to  a  just  exercise  of  its  proper  functions, 
and  that  its  incumbent  be  understood  and  proclaimed 
—  the  rightful  censor.  And  as  such  the  press  should 
exalt  and  defend  him,  the  public  hear  and  heed,  the 
manager  beckon  and  respect,  and  the  actor  seek  and 
study  him.  Provide  these  conditions  and  the  critic 
seeks  you.  He  creates  himself,  and  qualifies  his 


—10— 

charge.  The  abuse  of  criticism  often  snuffs  the 
flame  it  lit.  Begin  then  to  weed  this  garden  of  what 
is  "  rank  "  and  "  gross ;"  sow  anew,  possess  it  with 
beauty,  and  place  it  above  censorship.  The  critic 
would  be  the  first  to  applaud ! 


Number  seven  of  "  Stage  Affairs  "  appearing  Feb- 
ruary 26,  1907,  concerns : — 

THE   VAUDEVILLE   SYSTEM, 

THE    MORALLY    ILLEGAL    ABUSE    OF    ITS    TRUE    MEANT 
SIGNIFICANCE. 


A  scries  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER  SEVEN  FEBRUARY  26,  1907 


STAGE   AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs*" 


No.  1.  The  Playwright.  The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.  2.  The  Business  Manager.  His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.    3.     The  Actor.     The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.    4.    The    Stage   Manager.      His    Decaying 
Power. 

No.  5.  The  Theatre  Orchestra.  Its  Enforced 
Protrusive  Obedience. 

No.  6.  The  Dramatic  Critic.  The  Rightful 
Censor;  But  Not  Merely  by  "The 
Courtesy  of  the  Theatre." 


Copyright,   1907 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 

—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


VII. 
THE  VAUDEVILLE  SYSTEM. 

THE     MORALLY     ILLEGAL    ABUSE    OF     ITS    TRUE     MEANT 
SIGNIFICANCE. 

The  vaudeville  stage  in  America  today  presents 
much  that  is  genuine,  really  worthy,  and  which  often 
is  of  unquestionable  superior  merit.  Were  it  operated 
normally,  freed  of  the  spongy  absorption  of  despotic 
monopoly  (and  its  consequent  avaricious  practice  of 
continuate  activity),  and  so  satisfied  to  remain  respon- 
sible for  a  sane  adherence  to  its  true  purposes,  it 
could  adequately,  and  with  distinction,  maintain  (un- 
doubtedly to  a  condition  of  high  remunerative  satis- 
faction) the  not  too  overcrowded  ranks  of  legitimate 
vaudeville  artists.  But  in  its  continuate  indifference 
to  such  a  desirable  stipulation,  it  too  frequently  en- 
tertains matter  quite  irrelevant  to  the  true  under- 
standing of  the  title  it  impertinently  assumes.  The 
vaudeville  stage  of  today,  and  for  a  number  of  years 
past,  has,  both  invitingly  and  beseechingly,  become 
the  refuge  of  actors  and  actresses  (of  more  or  less 
prominence)  whose  popularity  in  their  proper  sphere 


2 

of  activity  has  begun  to  wane,  causing  consequently  in 
the  keen  discernment  of  their  conjoined  business  man- 
agers a  like  proportionate  condition  of  diminished 
commercial  importance.  These  actors  and  actresses 
then  condescend  (or  otherwise)  to  enter  the  field 
of  vaudeville.  Sometimes  they  possess  qualities  of 
real  merit;  but  oftener  they  are  trading  on  a  popu- 
larity and  prominence  ill-deserved,  as  regards  any 
positive  enjoyment  of  genuine  histrionic  ability.  The 
vaudeville  manager,  in  his  speculative  sense  of  box- 
office  gains,  —  and  perhaps,  moreover,  through  the 
knowledge  of  an  urgent  necessity  of  filling  in  the 
extraordinary  hours  of  the  prevalent  (and  abomin- 
able) system  of  continuous  performance,  —  seizes 
upon  such  opportunity,  and  (if  a  "  proper  vehicle  " 
can  be  found,  and  tested  as  to  its  possible  fitness, 
or  unfitness,  that  is,  if  there  appears  to  be  a  gambling 
chance)  boldly  proclaims  such  generous  condescen- 
sion, magnifying  the  character  of  the  type  that  heralds 
it  (to  the  diminished  importance  of  many  genuine  and 
truly  meritorious  acts  of  distinctive  vaudeville  mark), 
granting  in  return  for  such  humiliation  the  compen- 
sation of  exorbitant  remuneration,  of  course  wholly 
contingent  on  the  mere  speculative  nature  of  the 
trade. 

This  is  not  just  to  the  men  and  women  who  have 
conscientiously  trained  for  the  vaudeville  stage;  who 
have  given  hours,  days,  and  years  of  practice  that 
they  may  perfect  terpsichorean,  vocal,  legerdemain, 
instrumental,  acrobatic,  mimical,  ventriloquous  and 
many  other  forms  of  skill  pertaining  to  genuine 
vaudeville,  not  forgetting  the  patient  efforts  of  those 
who  train  and  prepare  the  dumb  animal  for  feats  of 
almost  incredible  dimensions.  And  so,  to  the  unjust 


— * '  'O     — 

pecuniary  embarrassment  of  such,  we  are  given  frag- 
mentary scenes  from  classic  drama,  curtailed  editions 
of  truly  meritorious  comedies  and  farces,  unskilfully 
reduced  to  suit  the  requirements  of  "  time  limit," 
mangled  both  in  preparation  and  exhibition.  Then 
we  have  to  endure  the  original  "sketch"  (written 
around  some  emphatic  mannerism  or  peculiarity  of 
the  actor  or  actress),  often  senseless  in  plot,  weak  in 
structure,  feeble,  coarse  and  boisterous  in  context  and 
delivery.  Many  of  the  actors  and  actresses  thus  sup- 
planting the  vaudeville  artists  have  never  known,  or, 
if  they  have,  seldom  respected  or  heeded  the  value 
of  necessary  preparation  for  their  own  condition  of 
the  theatre,  wherein,  had  they  properly  appreciated 
such  necessity,  they  might  indeed  rightfully  solicit 
audience  in  the  practice  of  their  profession. 

The  vaudeville  stage  today,  in  its  abnormal  system 
of  conduction,  and  demanding  as  it  does  a  continued 
season  of  uninterruptedness,  and  a  day  of  unnatural 
proportions,  holds  out  a  tempting  allurement  to  the 
actor  and  actress  drifting  through  this  age  of  com- 
mercialism. Greater  and  lesser  lights,  major  and 
minor  quantities,  who,  in  common  belief,  agree  that 
the  chief  value  a  stage  career  can  hold  for  them  is  — 
the  all-important  condition  of  immediate  pecuniary 
gain;  and  that  stipulation  always  at  the  stubborn 
neglect  of  any  studious  inclination  to  treat  seriously 
and  devotedly  the  institution  of  the  theatre,  and  the 
true  cause  of  dramatic  art. 

The  vaudeville  stage  in  America  today  is  passing 
through  that  condition  of  business  policy  that  marks 
the  expansive  plan  of  the  great  department  store 
of  our  large  cities.  I  have  said  elsewhere  that 
I  believe  in  trusts,  corporations  and  large  com- 


binations  when  honestly  operated.  I  believe  in  the 
facilitation  and  concentration  of  business  in  ex- 
pansive countries,  and  in  large  and  crowded  cities. 
But  the  medium  of  facilitation  and  concentration 
must  be  honest  in  its  solicitation  of  patronage, 
and  never  stretch  out  to  the  proportions  of  vicious 
monopoly,  which,  when  at  last  secure  in  its  condition 
of  despotic  importance,  shall  mercilessly  force  upon  its 
purchasers  the  necessitous  acceptance  of  its  wares 
through  a  determined  energy  to  stifle  in  other  quar- 
ters the  condition  and  spirit  of  healthy  competition, — 
the  vitality  of  all  enterprise;  the  surest  incentive  to 
high  workmanship,  superior  production,  and  their  con- 
sequent just  remuneration. 

We  see  today  in  the  vaudeville  the  department  store 
of  the  theatre.  Goods  of  all  descriptions  in  theatrical 
trade  are  in  its  lists,  with  the  customary  reduction  in 
price;  but  the  sign  that  contains  this  conglomerate 
admixtion  remains  still  —  the  vaudeville,  a  title 
wrongfully  claimed  by  reason  of  the  morally  illegal 
abuse  of  its  true  meant  significance.  What  direct 
bearing  does  this  existing  condition  have  upon  any 
immediate  and  future  hope  for  high  business  integ- 
rity and  art  aim  in  the  theatre  in  America?  To  prop- 
erly answer  that  question,  (and  in  justice  to  the 
powers  that  seek  to  almost  completely  control  the 
vaudeville  system  of  today),  it  is  necessary  to  con- 
sider first  a  condition  of  so-called  high  class  manage- 
ment which  has  drawn  from  the  vaudeville  ranks  much 
of  its  potency,  and  by  maintaining  a  certain  character 
of  person  (more  or  less  cunning  in  a  prevalent  vulgar 
method  of  skeleton  play  construction)  is  enabled  to 
furnish  these  renegade  vaudeville  artists  with  slender 
frames  in  which  to  encase  their  special  aptness,  sur- 


— 5— 

round  them  with  incongruous  matter  more  or  less 
rudely  entertaining,  and,  through  despotic  offices  of 
self-controlment,  parade  them  in  the  theatres,  wherein 
must  compete  for  equal  solicitation  the  truly  worthy 
combination  of  high  dramatic  importance. 

At  least  twenty  years  ago  (and  for  many  seasons 
following)  there  came  into  sudden  notice  and  in- 
creasing prominence,  a  writer  of  what  were  then 
termed  farce  comedies.  As  an  instigator  of  impu- 
dent satire,  ready  inventiveness  and  laugh-provoking 
incidents  and  situations,  this  author  (in  the  fertility 
and  fruitfulness  of  his  numerous,  varied  and  successful 
productions)  might  be  truly  proclaimed  a  genius. 
Into  all  of  these  farces  were  interpolated  acts  of 
genuine  vaudeville  quality.  These  farces  occupied 
the  stages  of  the  first  class  theatres  throughout  the 
United  States  of  America.  In  the  early  flush  of  their 
successes,  (and  for  years  after),  generous,  and  often 
excessive,  salaries  were  paid  to  the  engaging  people. 
Many  men  and  women  long  associated  with  these 
plays  found  difficulty  in  adapting  themselves  to  other 
environments  when  their  own  popularity  (and  that  of 
the  plays  also)  began  to  wane.  That  fact  remains  so 
in  many  cases  even  to  the  present  day.  Many  young 
women,  promising  much  for  future  usefulness  in 
higher  walks  of  dramatic  and  operatic  endeavor,  were 
caught  and  held  by  the  glamor  of  quick  pecuniary 
gain,  persuasion  of  the  managing  powers,  and  by  the 
voluntary  attentions  received  from  a  certain  stamp  of 
theatre  followers,  and  the  consequent  showy  promi- 
nence attained  through  being  associated  with  this 
special  type  of  "  show  "  girl. 

The  author  of  these  farces,  at  first  quite  alone  in  his 
class,  soon  had  many  imitators.  For  years  the  stage 


was  infested  and  overrun  with  this  vicious  form  of 
entertainment,  which  claimed,  and  was  accorded,  a 
place  in  our  best  theatres.  It  spread  into  the  various 
wilder  forms  of  musical  comedy,  burletta,  extrava- 
ganza, etc.,  invading  and  usurping  the  worthy  fields 
of  genuine  burlesque  and  comic  opera.  It  exists 
today  in  an  alarming  condition.  These  pieces  con- 
tain little  consistency,  continuity  or  proper  proportions. 
They  are  mere  skeletons  of  inanity,  stuffed  with 
doughy  substance,  clothed  and  decked  with  vain, 
variegated  feathers,  with  here  and  there  a  dash  of 
vim  by  the  interpolated  special  skill  of  some  former 
colleague  of  the  vaudeville.  The  rest,  many  of  whom 
can  neither  sing,  dance,  nor  act  with  even  any  small 
degree  of  proficiency,  become  the  mere  accessories 
which  go  to  make  up  a  "  show,"  and  which  must  fill 
out  the  time  necessary  to  exhibit  such  in  the  theatres 
entertaining  first-class  combinations.  Still  here  we 
see  much  which  is  more  distinctly  vaudeville  than 
some  of  the  "  bills "  provided  by  the  present  day 
vaudeville  houses. 

Thus  today  in  first  class  combinations,  we  see,  under 
the  names  of  "show,"  scant  vaudeville  with  prodigious 
setting;  and  often  at  the  vaudeville  we  find  (under 
some  misnomer,  unwarrantable  presumption,  in- 
applicable title)  adventurous  dramatic  inferiority 
protruding  from  under  a  cloak  of  great  pretence. 
Even  in  the  cases  of  some  truly  worthy  dramatic  ar- 
tists, we  are  forced  to  admit  that  both  their  endeavors 
and  the  material  used  seem  incongruous  to  the  envir- 
onments. In  the  great  swirl  of  commercialism  that  has 
overtaken  the  general  trend  of  theatrical  affairs  today, 
this  ever  apparent  disregard  for  the  true  offices  of  the 
particular  form  of  entertainment  specially  advertised 


is  signally  appalling.  In  its  present  significance,  di- 
rectly bearing  on  the  theatre  today,  this  one  concen- 
trate force  —  commercialism  —  dominates  the  scene, 
ruthlessly  tripping  up,  in  its  mad  rush  to  attain  its 
ends,  the  higher  aims  of  business  integrity,  justness 
and  art  employment.  What  it  foretells  for  the  future, 
if  not  checked  and  corrected,  is  only  a  simple  matter 
of  time  and  speculative  certainty. 

In  the  case  of  the  growing,  bulging  and  leechlike 
propensities  of  this  great  department  store  of  the 
theatre,  so  often  indifferent  to  the  means  and  quality 
of  the  purchase  and  exhibition  of  its  wares  in  many 
of  its  departments,  this  spirit  of  irregular  commer- 
cialism is  sapping  the  very  life  blood  and  vitality  of  its 
morally  legal  possession,  where  its  proper  aims  should 
rather  ever  seek  to  safeguard  and  promote  to  its  true 
meant  significance  its  very  own — the  vaudeville. 


Number  eight  of  "  Stage  Affairs,"  appearing  March 
5,  1907,  concerns:  — 

THE   PREVAILING  STOCK  SYSTEM. 

ITS  PRACTICES  A  DETRIMENT  TO  ART  AIM. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 


NUMBER  EIGHT  -  MARCH  5,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs.' 


No.  1.  The  Playwright.  The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.  2.  The  Business  Manager.  His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.  3.  The  Actor.  The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.  4.  The  Stage  Manager.  His  Decaying 
Power. 

No.  5.  The  Theatre  Orchestra.  Its  Enforced 
Protrusive  Obedience. 

No.  6.  The  Dramatic  Critic.  The  Rightful 
Censor;  But  Not  Merely  by  "The 
Courtesy  of  the  Theatre." 

No.  7.  The  Vaudeville  System.  The  Morally 
Illegal  Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant 
Significance. 


Copyright,    1907 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 

—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


VIII. 
THE   PREVAILING  STOCK   SYSTEM. 

ITS  PRACTICES  A  DETRIMENT  TO  ART  AIM. 

The  stock  company  wherein  the  leading  actors  are 
proficient  and  experienced  in  the  art  they  profess,  in- 
tellectual, well-mannered,  studious,  and  approximately 
prepared  and  able  to  personate  with  artistic  discern- 
ment the  vital  roles  of  the  drama,  —  a  condition  that 
ever  must  remain  the  actor's  sure  foundation,  the 
test  of  his  fitness  to  rightfully  claim  the  privilege  to 
practise  his  art,  —  and  wherein  its  entering  and  less 
experienced  members,  intrusted  with  comparatively 
smaller  parts,  are  enabled  eventually  (by  a  serious 
self-devotion  to  their  art,  steady  progression  through 
fitting  preparation  and  constant  study,  and  also  by 
emulation  of  their  higher  associates)  to  attain  a  just 
proficiency  in  that  art,  —  such  a  stock  company, 
operating  normally  on  sound  methods,  capable  of 
presenting  in  an  adequate  manner  for  public  approval 
and  critical  comment  the  higher  and  standard  works 
of  dramatic  literature,  and  qualified  (by  an  unre- 


stricted  condition  of  preparation)  to  promote,  and  to 
methodically,  artistically  and  effectually  produce  mod- 
ern, new  and  untried  plays,  is,  and  ever  will  remain, 
the  bulwark  and  enduring  strength  of  the  institution 
of  the  theatre  in  any  land. 

But  the  prevailing  stock  system  in  America  today 
presents  no  such  condition.  There  may  be  one  or  two 
English-speaking  companies  wherein  is  apparent,  per- 
haps, a  spirit  and  an  inclination  towards  such  a  proper 
state  of  affairs,  but  the  general  existing  condition, 
relating  to  the  great  majority  of  stock  companies  to- 
day, is  a  routine  of  ill-ordered,  unfinished  mechanism, 
quite  removed  from  the  finer  principles  of  art  aim, 
and  any  just  appreciation  of  the  necessary  co-essential 
balancing  forces,  —  business  substantiality  and  artistic 
worth ;  and  consequently  produces  a  state  detrimental 
to  the  proper  formation,  growth,  and  mould  of  the 
actor,  —  criminally  exhausting  his  nervous  system,  and 
often  injurious  to  his  physique  (offering  no  genuine 
reparation  for  such  abuse),  and  furthermore  must, 
by  the  imperative  need  of  a  constant  changing  and 
insistent  regularity  in  the  material  put  forth  (regard- 
less of  fitting  preparedness  and  proper  finish),  estab- 
lish and  maintain  methods  in  defiance  to  the  true  prin- 
ciples of  business  integrity. 

The  fact  that  the  public  patronizes,  is  loyal  to,  and 
apparently  relishes  this  condition  of  underdone  dra- 
matic victuals  does  not  condone  for  this  deterioration 
of  substantial  business  stamina,  or  for  the  injury  done 
to  actor  and  the  art  of  acting,  which  this  abuse  of 
what  should  be  the  best  conditioned  state  of  the 
theatre  widely  and  irreverently  produces.  The  ardor 
manifested,  adulation  bestowed,  and  their  resultant 
effects  brought  to  bear  by  the  patrons  of  this  phase 


—3— 

of  the  theatre  (honest  though  they  may  be),  are  most 
harmful,  in  so  much  as  they  kindle  and  wrongfully 
incite  in  the  actor  a  sense  of  self-esteem  and  proper 
efficiency  which  the  hurried  and  insufficient  prepara- 
tory condition  (compulsory  to  the  system)  totally  un- 
warrants,  thus  spreading  a  conflagratdry  stimulant 
that  must  sooner  or  later  consume  the  essential  it 
serves.  Friendly  applause,  unmindful  of  bestowment 
whether  merited  or  no,  must  lose  its  stimulation  to 
the  true  artist  when  drunk  from  such  a  source.  But 
it  is  seldom  lost  in  the  personnel  of  the  prevailing 
stock  company  of  today.  Few  there  are,  even  of  un- 
mistaken  talent,  and  an  inherent  sense  of  appropriate 
and  ready  application  of  the  same,  whose  ultimate 
worth  does  not  become  seriously  endangered  by  the 
viciousness  of  the  prevailing  stock  system  of  today. 

This  stock  actor  is  called  for  rehearsal  generally 
at  ten  o'clock,  sometimes  half-past  nine,  each  morn- 
ing (save  one,  perhaps,  in  every  week).  He  is 
obliged  to  appear  at  two  performances  each  day, 
twelve  in  a  week  (and  often  fourteen,  for  many  stock 
companies  require  that  today).  Scarcely  has  he  com- 
mitted to  memory  (too  often  incompletely  so)  the 
bare  words  of  his  part,  hopelessly  robbed  of  the  small- 
est possibility  of  an  adequate  grasp  of  its  complete 
meaning  (or  the  slightest  opportunity  offered  for  an 
artistic  portrayal),  when  he  has  "thrown  at  him," 
as  he  would  say,  another  part,  the  former  becoming 
then  a  thoughtless  anxiety,  its  presentation  being  left, 
in  a  large  measure,  to  the  prompt  routine  expertness 
of  its  portrayer,  and  the  equally  ready  response  of 
his  associates.  Deprived  of  all  satisfying  sense  that 
rewards  the  artist  who  has  labored  sufficiently  to 
beautifully  paint  and  finish  his  portrait,  what  worthy 


motive  can  hold  a  man  or  woman  to  the  practice  of 
such  a  debasement  of  the  exalted  art  he  claims  to 
profess  ? 

The  one  predominant  cause  is  here:  The  actor 
seeks  ever  the  medium  nearest  at  hand  that  will  most 
quickly  and  readily  meet  his  standard  of  reasoning, 
which  is  —  that  the  actor's  vocation  is  chiefly  a  busi- 
ness; keeping  paramount  at  all  times  (and  predomi- 
nant to  any  just  consideration  of  art,  or  the  expectancy 
of  a  condition  of  fixedness  and  useful  future,  through 
progressive  preparation)  the  one  ruling  common  un- 
derstanding, that  he  is  in  the  business  alone  for  the 
money  there  is  in  it.  This  is  not  said  in  disparagement 
of  proper  thrift,  but  rather  in  well  considered  protest 
against  this  almost  universal  argument  prevailing 
amongst  actors  and  actresses  in  America  today.  We 
should  all  claim  ultimately  a  just  remuneration.  If 
you  prepare  for  your  art  properly  and  thoroughly, 
and  practise  it  honestly  and  faithfully,  the  fitting 
recompense  will  come.  And  yet,  if  the  actor  and 
actress  could  with  honesty  say,  "  We  do  not  seriously 
solicit  heed  for  any  art  intention,"  there  might  be 
shown  some  leniency.  But  no,  they  wish  to  be  ack- 
nowledged as  artists.  They  crave  that  distinction  in 
the  public  eye;  yet  among  themselves,  in  common 
understanding,  it  is  a  business  first  and  last,  and 
any  condition  of  the  theatre  that  shall  most  imme- 
diately serve  to  substantiate  that  understanding,  gains 
their  readiest  acceptance.  There  is  no  phase  of  the 
theatre  in  so  direct  opposition  to  the  proper  conditions 
that  ensure  a  healthy  growth  and  progress  in  art, 
as  is  this  same  prevailing  stock  system  under  consid- 
eration. And  with  those  who  gravitate  to  its  activity, 
it  is  plainly  (except  regarding  the  immediate  consid- 


—5— 

eration  of  the  mere  business  prospect)  an  unreasoned 
course. 

Stock  actors  today  continually  boast  that,  in  a  ma- 
jority of  cases,  their  individual  performances  (par- 
ticularly in  the  reproduction  of  current  modern  plays) 
equal,  and  generally  surpass,  the  presentation  given 
by  the  members  of  the  so-called  original  cast.  In  rare 
instances  this  is  sometimes  true.  But  such  cases  are 
indeed  few.  More  often  such  assumptions  are  un- 
reasonable and  absurd;  the  outgrowth  of  unmerited 
self-esteem,  unreasoned  opinion,  and  a  mistaken  belief 
in  the  importance  of  their  untutored  condition.  This 
is  forcibly  true  in  the  event  of  the  presentation  of  a 
classic  play.  There  is  often  seen,  not  only  an  unwise 
curtailment  of  the  eloquent,  poetical  beauties  of  the 
play,  a  palpable  inability  on  the  part  of  the  actors  to 
adequately  render,  with  intelligence,  elegance  and 
effectualness,  the  sublime  grandeur  of  its  context,  a 
total  inefficiency  to  the  attainment  of  any  approximate 
degree  of  dignified  loftiness  in  the  exposition  of  the 
"great  moments"  in  the  drama  (these  deficiencies 
are,  of  course,  generally  evident  also  in  the  one-play 
combination),  but  there  exists,  furthermore,  a  stub- 
born neglect  of  any  serious  attempt  to  faithfully  com- 
mit and  speak  the  exact  lines  of  the  text.  The  stock 
actor  of  today  fakes  the  classics  with  the  same  reli- 
gious carelessness  that  he  does  the  trivialities  of  the 
modern  procreator  of  dramatic  prodigality.  And  yet 
this  same  actor  (boasting  often  an  undeniable  pride 
in  the  fact  of  his  total  ignorance  and  indifference  to 
the  classic  drama)  many  times  gains  approbation  and 
applause,  and  a  consequent  sense  of  self-satisfaction 
in  an  estimate  of  his  own  capabilities  regarding  his 


fit  qualifications  and  proficiency  in  the  classic  drama. 
The  themes  and  harmonious  beauties  of  great  plays, 
like  grand  operas,  cannot  be  obliterated  nor  hopelessly 
defaced,  even  though  entrusted  to  the  efforts  of  in- 
sufficient (if  earnest)  mediocrity  and  brazen  charla- 
tanry. Like  the  loftiness  of  the  eagle's  flight,  they 
soar  sublimely  above  and  beyond  the  mere  horizon, 
whereon,  in  restless  disorder,  perch  the  less  ambitioned 
species  of  their  kind. 

There  is  no  phase  of  the  theatre  today  wherein  the 
offices  of  genuine  criticism  are  left  to  such  neglect 
and  relegated  to  like  abuse  as  in  this  condition  of 
prevailing  stock  system.  This  lack  of  any  sufficient 
medium  of  criticism  is  much  to  blame  for  its  woful 
state  of  continuous  unpreparedness.  A  great  many 
of  the  plays  used  by  these  stock  companies  are  of 
comparatively  recent  construction,  and  have  served  a 
little  term  in  the  feverish  market  of  theatrical  specu- 
lation, and  when  drained  of  all  essence  of  any  further 
special  commercial  value  to  the  speculating  medium, 
are  rented  to  the  stock  companies.  To  such  organiza- 
tions, operating'  on  abnormal,  incomplete  methods, 
these  modern  plays  offer  the  most  desirable  medium  to 
suit  the  demands  of  a  hurried  preparation.  All  the 
details  of  the  original  production  are  fully  and  clearly 
designated ;  the  positions  and  "  business  "  of  the  char- 
acters plainly  exposed.  A  sufficient  retention  of  the 
lines,  adroitness  in  delivering  them,  and  also  in  sup- 
plying the  positions  and  "  business,"  constitute  the 
actual  responsibility  of  the  actor  in  presenting  such 
plays.  The  additional  necessary  preparations  entailed 
in  matters  of  "  make-up  "  and  dressing  ( accompany- 
ing the  indispensable  function  of  committing  to  mem- 


—7— 

ory  the  lines  of  the  part)  rob  the  actor  of  any  further 
possibility  of  applying  to  his  performance  a  care  and 
finish  that  shall  promote  to  any  desired  degree  an 
adequate  exposition  of  the  actor's  art.  Imperfections 
and  defects,  unavoidable  in  the  initiate  performance, 
must,  through  the  lack  of  opportunity  to  eradicate  or 
adjust  them,  magnify  as  the  performances  progress. 
In  any  re-presentation  of  the  play,  the  actor  is  gen- 
erally more  concerned  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  respite 
afforded  by  such  repetition  than  in  the  opportunity 
afforded  him  to  improve  his  portrayal  of  the  part. 
And  finally,  the  character  of  these  plays  and  parts 
is  not  of  any  permanent  importance  to  the  stage,  nor 
indicative  of  any  stable  medium  through  which  the 
actor  may  advance  his  art  and  condition.  The  critic 
is  not  in  evidence.  His  opinion  has  been  passed  upon 
the  production  made  originally  under  conditions  en- 
tailing more  sufficient  care  in  preparation,  and  often 
reviewed  only  after  repeated  performances. 

Criticism  here  (concerning  the  stock  company)  de- 
scends, more  generally,  to  the  smart  practices  of  the 
press  agent,  or  to  the  uncritical  efforts  of  general 
journalism,  often  proffered  through  direct  instruction 
from  the  authorities  of  the  theatre.  Under  such  con- 
ditions favorites  are  installed,  advanced  and  main- 
tained. Actors  and  actresses  are  led  into  convictions 
of  their  own  ability  and  importance  that  a  just  crit- 
ical estimate  could  furnish  no  warrant  for.  These 
inconsequential  though  flattering  notices  too  often 
falsely  impress  and  influence  the  patrons  of  this  con- 
dition of  the  theatre  towards  an  absurd  idolatry  of 
the  players ;  a  condition  which  in  turn  only  empha- 
sizes the  already  questionable  quality  of  these  players' 


intrinsic  worth  histrionically.  Many  actors  and  ac- 
tresses insert  in  the  columns  of  advertising  mediums 
these  same  notices,  that  agents,  by  whom  they  were 
prepared,  make  free  confession  were  instituted  and 
exhibited  for  business  purposes  only,  indifferent  to 
any  inferior  talent  of  the  actor  or  actress  in  question. 
And  yet  the  critic  (he  who  seldom  visits  or  passes 
judgment  on  the  happenings  of  this  condition  of  the 
theatre)  frequently  champions,  and  justly  so,  the  cause 
of  the  truly  meritorious  stock  system,  the  one  outlined 
at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter.  That  an  occasional 
observance  of  the  stock  system  prevalent  in  America 
today  might,  and  in  one  particular  instance  evidently 
did,  compel  an  adverse  opinion,  is  well  exemplified  in 
the  following  illustration,  and  emphasizes  the  impera- 
tive need  of  critical  review  in  that  quarter.  A  fore- 
most critic  in  a  large  theatrical  centre,  —  one  who  had 
given  considerable  space  in  praise  of  the  really  val- 
uable stock  company,  touching  on  its  special  import- 
ance towards  the  proper  developing  of  actors,  —  thus 
openly,  in  contrary  terms,  expressed  an  opinion  as 
follows  concerning  the  deplorable  conditions  apparent 
in  one  of  the  most  largely  patronized  of  these  pre- 
vailing stock  companies.  To  my  careful  observance 
this  esteemed  critic  had  not,  previous  to  this  occa- 
sion, given  any  regular  comment  on  the  efforts  of 
the  stock  company  in  question.  However,  on  this 
occasion,  under  his  signature  appeared  the  following: 
"  The  company  evidently  sacrificed  themselves  to 
please  their  patrons."  And  further  on  added,  con- 
cerning these  same  patrons,  that  they  had  much  to 
learn  in  the  matter  of  punctuality,  and  in  "  breaking 
themselves  of  the  habit  of  almost  incessant  talking," 


— 9— 

and  in  the  "  acquiring  of  an  instinct  which  shall  teach 
them  when  to  laugh  and  when  not."  Surely  a  stock 
system  evolving  such  an  abuse  of  the  art  it  would 
boast  to  promote  and  maintain,  and  demanding  at  once 
from  its  individual  incumbents  a  subserviency  to  the 
required  standard  of  its  patrons,  and  an  indulgence 
of  their  innocent  or  purposed  rudeness  in  order  to 
retain  their  patronage,  forms  a  practical  demonstra- 
tion and  unretractible  confession  of  its  undeniable 
detriment  to  art  aim.  Add  to  this  extreme  condition 
of  voluntary  surrender  of  any  slight  power  possessed 
to  somewhat  maintain  a  standard  of  art  endeavor,  and 
the  extreme  impossibility,  through  the  abnormal  con- 
duction of  the  system,  to  ever  attain  a  just  criterion 
of  sound  importance,  and  who  can  deny,  through  such 
practices,  its  force  of  constant  detriment  to  art  aim; 
and,  in  the  determined,  energetic  maintenance  of  this 
unprepared,  unfinished  state,  an  enforced  lack  of 
business  integrity? 

And  let  it  be  said  (and  truly  to  his  credit)  that  this 
same  critic  recently  brought  the  force  of  his  worthy 
office  into  special  usefulness  by  a  recent  reviewal  of 
this  same  stock  company,  and  of  yet  another  one 
toiling  in  the  same  centre  of  activity.  Concerning 
the  latter  he  gave  a  most  impartial  criticism  of  that 
company's  "  courageous "  intentions  to  portray  the 
characterizations  of  a  master  playwright.  In  praising 
the  ambitious  departure  from  a  usual  routine,  and 
further  pleading  a  support  for  such  from  serious  play- 
goers (a  generous  action  but  somewhat  questionable), 
nevertheless,  he  was  forced  to  say  that  it  was  "  im- 
possible to  admit  that  the  result  wholly  justified  the 
innovation.  If  the  play  is  to  be  a  success  in  its  acted 


--10— 

form,  it  can  only  become  such  by  being  interpreted 
by  a  company  of  skilful  actors,  full  of  resources,  and 
competent  in  the  lighter  shades  of  character  inter- 
pretation." Such  "  genuine  criticism,"  justly  censur- 
ing the  fallacies  of  the  prevailing  stock  system  of 
today  in  unpreparedly  and  unconcernedly  attempting 
the  exposition  of  the  higher  drama,  is  imperatively 
needed  very  generally. 

And  how  can  this  phase  of  the  theatre,  in  continued 
adherence  to  such  abnormal  practices,  ever  evolve  and 
secure  a  criterion  upon  which  to  measure  a  fixed 
standard  of  high  attainment  in  the  institution  of  the 
theatre,  and  the  art  of  the  actor?  The  material  gen- 
erally promoted  by  these  stock  companies  has  little 
positive  value  to  ensure  any  permanence;  the  con- 
ditions surrounding  its  exposition  are  of  such  un- 
preparedness,  high  tension,  and  incompleteness  as  must 
forbid  a  proper  exhibit  of  either  the  matter  or  the 
medium  through  which  it  is  revealed.  It  is  merely  a 
waste  of  material  and  energy  to  no  stable  purpose, 
and  at  the  risk  of  physical  and  nerve  forces.  It  is 
building  with  insecure  substance  through  incomplete 
means.  No  beneficial  structure  can  result  and  remain. 
And  even  when  sterling  material  (substantial  form, 
sound  model)  is  furnished,  there  is  no  sufficient  pre- 
paredness to  skilfully  mould  the  substance,  no  ade- 
quate means  to  finish,  to  complete  the  work,  nor  would 
there  be  time  to  properly  apply  any  skill  or  means 
should  it  really  exist  in  approximate  efficiency.  Con- 
sequently must  be  seen  (in  the  imperative  pertinacity 
of  both  manager  and  actor  to  exhibit  the  model)  not 
alone  an  injury  to  the  model  itself,  but  also  a  detri- 
ment to  the  medium  employed  in  the  exposition,  caus- 


—11— 

ing  a  constant  effectiveness ;  a  condition  which,  if 
left  uncorrected,  must  of  its  own  reactive  force  impede 
any  possible  advance  in  the  true  condition  of  art  aim 
in  the  actor's  efforts. 


Number  nine  of  "  Stage  Affairs,"  appearing  March 
12,  1907,  concerns: 

THE  STAR  SYSTEM. 

ITS    MANIFEST    CONDITION    GENERALLY    IRRELEVANT    TO 
THE   CONSEQUENCE   OF   ITS   TRUE    MEANING. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 


NUMBER  NINE  MARCH  12,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


UN- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


TV 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE    NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs* 


No.  1.  The  Playwright.  The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.  2.  The  Business  Manager.  His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.  3.  The  Actor.  The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.  4.  The  Stage  Manager.  His  Decaying 
Power. 

No.  5.  The  Theatre  Orchestra.  Its  Enforced 
Protrusive  Obedience. 

No.  6.  The  Dramatic  Critic.  The  Rightful 
Censor;  But  Not  Merely  by  "The 
Courtesy  of  the  Theatre/' 

No.  7.  The  Vaudeville  System.  The  Morally 
Illegal  Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant 
Significance. 

No.  8.  The  Prevailing  Stock  System.  Its  Prac- 
tises a  Detriment  to  Art  Aim. 


Copyright,   1907 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today , 

-BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


IX. 
THE    STAR    SYSTEM, 

ITS    MANIFEST    CONDITION    GENERALLY    IRRELEVANT    TO 
THE  CONSEQUENCE  OF  ITS  TRUE  MEANING. 

With  the  theatre  in  America  today,  as  with  many 
other  phases  of  commercial  life,  there  too  often  exists 
a  policy  to  thrust  to  the  front  inexperience,  incom- 
petency  and  impudence,  to  the  exclusion  of  tested 
knowledge  and  real  merit  (and  their  attendant  modes- 
ties), the  former  conditions  being  backed  and  main- 
tained generally  by  the  power  of  monopolistic  control 
engendering  the  germs  which  breed  cheapened  labor, 
inferior  ability,  and  a  consequent  condition  of  demor- 
alization. On  the  stage  today,  the  existence  of  this 
condition  cannot  with  truthfulness  be  denied. 

The  name  "star"  (applicable  to  individuals  in 
various  occupations,  but  perhaps  more  generally  and 
popularly  suited  to  those  of  the  stage)  should  be  con- 
ferred only  as  a  badge  of  honor  for  an  unmistaken, 
truly  merited  distinction  of  superior  ability,  which 
may  manifest  itself  through  individual  high  mental 
endeavor,  or  through  a  sagacious  faculty  (either  by 


— 2— 

marked  intelligence  or  by  natural  gift)  of  quick  dis- 
cernment to  receive,  comprehend  and  readily  expose 
the  substantial  teachings  of  another,  and  thereby  being 
empowered  to  predominantly  attract,  shine  and  con- 
vince in  the  exhibition  of  talent  in  a  general  setting  of 
some  supplied  medium.  There  should  always  be 
apparent  a  genuine  manifestation  of  a  proven  fitness 
to  the  claim  of  star  distinction.  It  should  never  come 
through  any  anticipate  sense,  or  forced  condition, 
brought  about  by  the  mere  power  of  opulence,  and  the 
opportunities  its  tyrannical  persuasion  may  buy,  re- 
gardless of  the  absence  of  real  merit  and  propriety; 
nor  through  the  sheer  speculation  alone  of  hereditary 
transmission,  nor  (and  most  to  be  censured)  through 
the  bare  channels  of  sensationalism,  base  notoriety  and 
social  scandal. 

The  American  stage  today  contains  a  few  person- 
ages rightfully  claiming  the  titular,  star.  But  in  the 
cases  of  far  too  many  who  intrusively  enter  upon  its 
threshold  (or  are  thrust  thereon),  we  find  no  manifes- 
tation of  any  moral  right  to  the  condition  of  star  dis- 
tinction. Therefore  we  often  find,  as  a  consequence, 
many  stars  of  a  few  years  and  longer  ago,  returned  to 
the  quality  of  an  ordinary  player,  and  occupying  posi- 
tions sometimes  of  no  special  importance.  Their  con- 
dition of  commercial  weight  having  been  tested  and 
found  wanting,  or  else  sifted  of  any  further  profit, 
and  they  themselves  not  possessing  the  essential  ele- 
ments to  maintain,  through  any  self-merited  achieve- 
ments, the  true  condition  of  stellar  importance,  have 
been  quickly  relegated  to  their  previous  standing,  and 
their  places  as  stars  open  again  to  the  speculative  mood 
of  the  manager,  who  seizes  upon  any  opportune  chance 
to  humor  that  mood,  and  quite  generally  indifferent 


to  any  question  of  the  essential  fitness  of  the  fortu- 
nate (or  unfortunate)  one  precipitated  into  the  priv- 
ileged position  of  star  prominence.  This  is  a  state 
of  affairs  existing  to  a  marked  degree  in  the  ack- 
nowledged first-class  managements  of  today. 

It  is  not  unusual,  and  it  is  perfectly  right,  that  the 
matter  of  years  and  experience  should  play  no  special 
part  in  the  peculiar  fitness  of  a  person  to  become  a 
star.  Acting  is  more  a  question  of  preparation,  study 
and  finish  in  the  pursuit  of  an  art  aim.  Experience 
is,  of  course,  when  practised  constantly  in  the  right 
direction,  invaluable  to  the  consummation  of  that  art. 
But  wanting  in  a  proper  preparation,  and  lacking  an 
inclination  to  study,  and  foregoing  a  struggle  for  the 
attainment  of  that  finish,  experience  is  often  a  disin- 
terested teacher,  and  in  the  stubbornness  of  its  pupil 
to  couple  any  condition  of  self-helpful  energy  to  the 
advantages  of  its  teachings,  frequently  leaves  him  to 
the  mercy  of  such  neglect,  an  inattention  which,  by 
the  steady  augmentation  of  his  heedlessness,  can  but 
add  to  his  faults  as  time  goes  on. 

A  person  early  installed  as  a  star  should  not  expect 
to  progress  to  a  proper  degree  of  stability  and  per- 
manence without  the  discipline  of  constant  study,  un- 
ceasing practice,  and  concentrated  energy,  any  more 
than  might  an  ordinary  player  without  such  qualifi- 
cations expect  to  eventually  attain  that  distinction. 
Yet  how  seldom  does  the  vaporous  star  of  today  con- 
sider the  necessity  of  such  discipline.  A  suitable 
vehicle  must  be  found  in  which  to  parade  some  special 
accomplishment,  and  best  obscure  the  limitations  of 
this  star.  Few  there  are  in  whom  rest  the  essential 
qualities  to  adequately  display  the  serious  designs  of 
the  higher  drama,  and  fewer  still  who  can  at  all  effect 
the  exacting  conditions  of  the  classics. 


The  virtuoso  who  must  select  composition  suited 
only  to  the  limited  consequence  of  his  accomplishments 
is  not  truly  a  virtuoso.  If  he  cannot  always  excel 
in  a  varied  range  of  classical  composition,  he  must 
nevertheless  attain  an  art  finish  sufficient  to  tech- 
nically and  intelligently  display  the  dignified  intention 
of  the  composer,  or  otherwise  he  cannot  hold  the 
coveted  distinction,  nor  will  he  be  allowed  to  exercise 
the  superior  tests  of  virtuosity;  neither  shall  he  com- 
mand audience  and  respect. 

The  star,  the  virtuoso  performer  of  the  stage,  rec- 
ognizes no  necessity  of  such  a  condition  of  art  finish, 
nor  does  the  manager  who  parades  him,  nor  the 
audience  that  patronizes  him.  The  star  today  stands 
(for  the  most  part)  a  favored  individual  through  some 
condition  totally  irrelevant  to  the  consequence  of  the 
true  meaning  of  his  appellative  significance.  To  deny 
to  the  instrumentalist,  the  medium  interpreting  the 
predominant  theme  of  the  composer,  the  possession 
of  the  title  virtuoso  through  his  inability  to  attain 
a  proper  art  standard,  and  to  indiscriminately  accord 
the  charlatan  instrumentalist,  the  actor  (interpreting 
the  predominant  theme  of  the  playwright),  the  title 
star  only  exalts  the  more  the  genuineness  of  the 
former,  and  the  louder  pronounces  the  vainglorious 
emptiness  of  the  latter.  This  condition  extending 
generally  throughout  the  entire  vocation  of  acting, 
and  so  placing  upon  its  encumbents  no  compulsory 
stipulation  of  preparation,  progress  and  ultimate  pro- 
ficiency to  warrant  their  fitness  to  practise  such  an 
art,  but  leaving  all  access  to  its  abode  unguarded  and 
free  to  every  means  and  ends  of  irregularity,  con- 
stantly obstructs  the  most  desired  growth,  and  must, 
through  a  continued  existence,  and  no  attempt  to 


adjust  or  remove  such  obstruction,  remain  a  steady 
menace  to  the  highest  state  of  productiveness  of  the 
drama  in  America. 

It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  in  this  almost  total  dis- 
regard for  the  establishment  of  a  tested  and  visible 
fitness  that  may  rightfully  permit  the  aspirant  to 
engage  in  a  career  of  histrionic  service,  that  so  many 
of  the  so-called  stars  of  today,  when  failing  in  the 
expectancy  and  exhibition  of  the  medium  provided 
them,  and  not  possessing  the  essential  qualities  to  sus- 
tain the  higher  exactions  of  genuine  stellar  signifi- 
cance, must  either  retire  to  the  ranks  of  the  ordinary 
player,  or  revert  to  some  former  "  success,"  in  hopes 
of  sponging  up  its  well-worn  fabrics  into  temporary 
use,  until  they  shall  again  be  fitted  to  a  new  form 
best  emphasizing  some  special  peculiarity,  and  so  ob- 
scuring the  many  defects  arising  from  such  funda- 
mental deformity.  But  while  there  exists  a  tendency 
on  the  part  of  the  manager  to  generally  ignore  the 
practices  of  higher  integrity,  and  an  inclination  on  the 
part  of  the  actor  to  deny  and  neglect  the  essential 
forces  of  fundamental  import  necessary  to  the  prepara- 
tion, progress  and  finish  of  any  art,  just  so  long  will 
the  American  stage  continue  to  be  no  more  than  a 
commercial  mart  where  humanity  and  inanimate  sub- 
stance challenges  alike  the  speculative  fancy  of  the 
manager,  and  who  so  holds  them  of  equal  importance 
in  the  preparation  of  his  "  prop  "  list. 

There  is  a  class  of  star  (and  theatrical  company) 
invading  a  territory  generally  unfrequented  by  the 
more  pretentious  companies  (although  often  visited 
by  a  most  praiseworthy  class  of  star  of  whom  we  shall 
speak  later),  which,  in  its  unwarranted  confidence 
or  wilful  viciousness,  often  brazenly  heralds  a  promise 


of  extraordinary  display  that  neither  the  material  pre- 
sented nor  the  talent  employed  can  in  any  way  fulfil. 
They  often  work  their  way  on  the  vulgar  plan  of 
mere  trickery;  that  is,  any  means  of  getting  into  a 
town ;  calloused  to  any  thought  or  care  of  the  treach- 
ery practised  upon  the  public,  content  only  in  the 
knowledge  that  they  are  leaving  the  same  day.  Some 
districts  of  the  United  States  are  cursed  with  this 
transitory  condition  of  theatrical  garbage,  scattering 
in  its  trail  the  sordid  seeds  of  mistrust,  misbelief  and 
misunderstandment,  that  too  often  choke  the  more 
wholesome  products  of  its  kind;  and  which,  further- 
more, freely  placards  the  highest  acceptance  of  the 
best  condition  of  plays  and  players  with  the  same 
insignia  as  its  own,  in  one  common  vernacular,  — 
"  troupes  "  and  "  troupers."  In  the  adjustment  of 
this  condition  is  needed  a  strict  adherence  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  business  integrity  among  the  managers  of 
the  theatres  and  halls  in  the  towns  through  which 
such  companies  squirm.  Although  sometimes  de- 
ceived, nevertheless  these  managers  often  solicit  and 
find  profit  in  such  material.  They  sacrifice  much  in- 
tegrity to  gain  a  little  reimbursement  of  the  cash 
drawer.  Perhaps  there  is  a  compensative  propriety 
in  their  conduct. 

Even  in  many  of  these  small  cities  and  towns,  the 
manager  is  bound  securely  by  the  dictates  of  a  selfish 
power.  He  cannot  have  whom  he  will,  and  dare  not 
refuse  whom  he  would.  To  fill  the  exigencies  of  the 
booking  department  of  this  great  power,  these  various 
managers  are  often  required  to  crowd  within  the 
space  of  one  week  as  many  attractions  as  there  are 
days  in  that  week.  Perhaps  not  one  of  these  attrac- 
tions is  of  sufficient  worth  or  standing  to  place  any 


7 

desired  gain  into  the  hands  of  the  local  manager, 
particularly  in  view  of  this  despotic  enforcement  of 
entertainment  in  a  town  incapable  of  decently  sup- 
porting more  than  one  or  two  attractions  in  a  week; 
and,  moreover,  through  the  fee  demanded  for  the 
booking  of  such  undesirable  encumbrances.  Perhaps 
the  following  week  or  two  are  left  to  absolute  neglect 
by  the  machinery  of  this  vast  booking  agency.  A 
desire  to  fill  in  this  vacuum  often  leads  these  man- 
agers to  the  speculative  medium  of  their  trade. 

They  complain  of  the  material  forced  upon  them, 
and  of  the  indifference  shown  to  their  importance  as 
managers  in  not  being  favored  with  the  best  quality 
under  the  dictatory  distribution  of  this  large  con- 
trolment.  In  the  abnormality  of  such  conditions  it 
is  not  strange  that  they  should  resort  to  an  indis- 
criminate practice  in  the  rental  and  percentage  plans 
of  the  theatre.  In  this  speculation  they  often  find 
more  profit,  and  occasionally  present  material  and 
talent  superior  to  that  forced  upon  them  by  dictatorial 
supremacy  of  the  power  that  forces  their  signal  re- 
leasement  of  independence.  For  much  that  they  mu3t 
accept  through  that  means  is  of  a  most  inferior  pat- 
tern, finding  excuse  for  its  existence  through  the 
various  channels  of  opulence,  cringing  partisanship, 
peculiar  favoritism,  and  often,  on  the  part  of  the  first 
party,  through  a  malicious  desire  to  offset,  and  some- 
times even  ruin,  the  prospects  of  some  displeasing 
competitor.  In  this  condition  of  managerial  practice, 
the  class  of  star  just  alluded  to  finds  a  greedy  boon 
for  the  exercise  of  his  (or  her)  obnoxious  vanity 
and  bloated  incompetency. 

There  is  another  quite  opposite  (but  most  com- 
mendable) phase  of  the  star  system;  in  its  activity 


also  removed  somewhat  from  the  more  coveted  sphere 
of  first-class  distinction,  but  still,  in  its  self-evincive- 
ness,  often  of  far  more  genuine  importance  (regard- 
ing also  the  .substance  of  the  plays  presented)  than 
the  manifest,  condition  of  the,  "  high  priced "  star 
of  today,  so  generally  irrelevant  to  his  true  meant 
significance.  It  is  indee4  delightful  to  note  and  praise 
the  independence  of  some  few  actors  and  actresses 
(genuine  stars),  who  endure  many  inconveniences  in 
travel  and  disadvantages  in  theatres  that  they  may 
still  maintain  an,  individual  dignity  and  distinction 
which  their  .properly  matured  art.  and  experience  hon- 
estly admits  of. 

Before  the  ingress  of  theatrical  monopoly,  and  at 
its  inception,  many  of  these  stage  lights  were  then 
firmly  established  and  deserving  stars ;  playing  in 
theatres  of  highest  class,  and  enjoying  throughout  the 
country  in  cities  of  largest  importance  the  patronage 
and  wise  discernment  of  both  public  and  press.  But 
there  they  were  stayed  in  their  ripening  maturity,  and 
thus  neglected  by  the  stipulation  of  irregular  commer- 
cialism (a  state  of  disorder  which,  by  reason  of  a  forced 
hurriedness  ever  necessary  to  meet  the  extravagant 
demands  of  its  abnormal  growth,  must  of  consequence 
supplant  the  condition  of  quality  by  the  substitution 
of  quantity),  these  qualified  artists  were  obliged  to 
step  aside  and  gradually  deviate  to  the  less  desirable 
avenues  that  did  not  then  hold  the  pecuniary  profit 
and  value  sufficient  to  specially  warrant  a  speculatory 
condition  of  immediate  combinement  with  the  main 
thoroughfares,  already  fast  being  seized  and  held  by 
the  ambitious,  hastening  strides  of  commercialism; 
thoroughfares  which,  if  these  players  would  hope  to 
re-step,  they  must  once  and  for  all  sacrifice  to  the 


— 9— 

theatrical  "  highway  commission  "  every  true  sense  of 
merited  independence  and  unrestrained  artistic  en- 
joyment. 

And  so  today  we  find  really  worthy  stars  (who  have 
been  ousted  from  their  proper  sphere,  or  deprived 
therein  of  their  rightful  province,  through  an  unjust 
classification  of  the  apportionment  of  theatres  under 
the  control  of  this  "  highway  commission  ")  afford- 
ing, to  personal  disadvantages,  great  benefit  in  small 
centres,  through  the  presentation  of  truly  commenda- 
ble plays  and  the  exhibition  of  superior  art.  Perhaps 
there  is  some  compensation  in  that  fact;  and  which 
may  to  some  degree  offset  that  long  prevalent  and 
stubborn  process  of  histrionic  incendiarism,  produc- 
ing only  ashed  insurance  settlements,  miserly  scattered 
to  kindle  another  transitory  "  meteor,"  soon  to  become 
in  turn  a  wanton  waste  of  theatrical  combustion,  whose 
darkened  ashes  shall  illumine  all  the  more  the  gen- 
uineness of  the  truly  lustrous  star. 


Number  ten  of  "  Stage  Affairs,"  appearing  March 
19,  1907,  concerns: 

THE   REPERTOIRE    SYSTEM. 

MANY    COMPENSATIONS    FOR    ITS     MARKED    DECADENCE. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

,  .-..—_— 

NUMBER  TEN  MARCH  19,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs; 


No.  1.  The  Playwright.  The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.  2.  The  Business  Manager.  His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.  3.  The  Actor.  The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.  4.  The  Stage  Manager.  His  Decaying 
Power. 

No.  5.  The  Theatre  Orchestra.  Its  Enforced 
Protrusive  Obedience. 

No.  6.  The  Dramatic  Critic.  The  Rightful 
Censor;  But  Not  Merely  by  "The 
Courtesy  of  the  Theatre." 

No.  7.  The  Vaudeville  System.  The  Morally 
Illegal  Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant 
Significance. 

No.  8.  The  Prevailing  Stock  System.  Its  Prac- 
tises a  Detriment  to  Art  Aim. 

No.  9.  The  Star  System.  Its  Manifest  Condi- 
tion Generally  Irrelevant  to  the  Con- 
sequence of  Its  True  Meaning. 


Copyright,   1907 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 

—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


X. 
THE   REPERTOIRE   SYSTEM. 

MANY     COMPENSATIONS    FOR    ITS     MARKED    DECADENCE. 

There  are  a  few  "  high-class  repertoire  "  companies 
in  America  today  existing  in  the  best  condition  that 
that  term  implies.  Too  much  commendation,  encour- 
agement and  support  can  not  be  given  this  class  of 
attraction  which  carefully  and  adequately  prepares  and 
exhibits  an  interesting  and  varied  line  of  worthy  plays. 
But  the  stars  and  managements  who  attempt  this  today 
are  few  indeed.  Two  reasons  principally  may  be  ad- 
vanced for  this  apparent  decadence  in  the  high-class 
repertoire  system. 

First,  the  enormous  expense  required  to  properly 
produce  each  individual  play  to  meet  the  ready  ex- 
pectancy of  the  "public,"  who  (to  use  the  argument 
employed  generally  by  the  present  -  day  managers ) 
looks  first  of  all  for  a  "  show  " ;  albeit,  to  that  public's 
unsophistication,  this  "  show  "  is  often  an  intentioned 
chromo-type  deceit.  Notwithstanding,  to  equip  and 


— 2— 

transport  a  first-class  company  playing  in  an  extended 
repertoire  is  today  a  matter  of  great  expense.  To  all 
managers  so  doing  and  meeting  the  modern  expecta- 
tion of  a  good  production,  much  credit  and  deserving 
support  is  due. 

The  other  reason  for  a  seeming  decadency  in  first- 
class  repertoire  is  this :  there  are  few  actors  and 
actresses  in  America  today,  as  compared  to  a  period 
fifteen  or  more  years  ago,  who  can,  with  sufficient 
art  and  practice,  evenly  sustain  throughout  a  reper- 
toire of  varied  and  exacting  parts  an  interest  and 
attention  that  shall  equally  offset  the  scenic,  electrical, 
and  otherwise  lavish  embellishments  of  the  prevalent 
one-play  combination  system  of  to-day.  However, 
lamentable  as  the  last  mentioned  condition  may  appear 
to  many,  and  further  conceding  that  oftentimes  the 
spectacular  element  of  the  play  today  is  in  tinseled 
excess  of  the  actual  rational  demands,  nevertheless  I 
believe  this  condition  of  elaborate  preparation  for 
display  and  lavishness  in  production  to  be  of  vast 
and  permanent  importance,  stimulating  an  emulative 
condition  of  present  worth  and  future  value  to  the 
American  stage,  and  consequently  serves,  to  a  very 
considerable  extent,  a  substantial  compensation  for 
the  regrettable  departure  of  the  earlier  repertoire  sys- 
tem, with  its  many  lustrous  and  versatile  stars,  back- 
grounded by  dingy  stock  scenery,  and  surrounded  by 
incongruously  and  illy-robed  supernumeraries  and  im- 
possible accessories. 

In  a  broad  outline  of  art  aim  in  the  theatre  all 
auxiliary  assistance  and  ornamentation  should  receive 
sufficient  attention  in  the  general  preparation  and  pro- 
duction of  a  play ;  but  at  very  most  they  should  never 


become  more  than  adjunctives.  The  condition  of  a  play 
stands  first;  and  then  the  consideration  of  its  por- 
trayal. The  vanities  that  adorn  these  essentials  should 
be  appropriately  fitted  to  such  forms  only  when  those 
forms  are  fittingly  appropriate  to  wear  them.  Art  ex- 
pression is  the  approximate  perfection  finally  mani- 
fested in  some  originally  conceived  superior  type  or 
beautiful  idea.  If  such  conception  and  manifestation 
of  the  playwright  (and  exposition  of  the  player)  are 
not  superior  and  beautiful  in  themselves,  no  adjunc- 
tive  embellishment  can  truly  make  them  so,  any  more 
than  can  a  gilded  frame  make  amends  for  an  inferior 
canvas.  A  beautiful  canvas  may  be  less  attractive  to 
the  uncultivated  eye,  perhaps,  if  it  lacks  an  appropriate 
frame ;  but  no  encasement  of  a  genuine  canvas  ever 
approaches  the  value  of  the  canvas.  The  art  merchant 
might  delude  even  genuine  patronage  by  the  sub- 
stitution of  clever  counterfeit  neatly  framed.  But  he 
never  does  (or,  indeed,  very  rarely  will  it  be  found 
so).  'He  is  honest.  The  theatre  manager  understands 
no  such  discernment  in  the  true  offices  of  the  art  store 
he  is  conducting.  He  is  either  wilfully  or  ignorantly 
dishonest  in  the  management  of  his  affairs.  His  com- 
mercialism, concentrated  towards  monopolistic  control, 
abuses  its  true  spirit  and  high  offices,  and  makes  art 
at  all  times  subordinate  to  its  avaricious  demands. 
Today  his  stage  is  a  tinseled  frame,  wherein  he  struts 
his  plumed  chromotypes.  That  he  often  receives 
genuine  patronage  does  not  mitigate  the  dishonesty 
of  such  purposed  delusion. 

Fifteen  to  twenty  years  ago  there  were  many  young 
actors  and  actresses  beginning  their  careers  in  com- 
panies of  distinction  in  "  high-class  repertoire,"  sur- 


rounded  by  environments  of  revered  traditions  and 
artistic  helpfulness  that  promised  much  for  them,  and, 
consequently,  the  future  benefit  they  might  lend  to 
the  American  stage.  The  advantages  then  offered 
these  young  aspirants  for  a  healthy  growth,  sane 
progress  and  ultimate  efficiency  in  their  chosen  voca- 
tion were  many,  and,  if  wisely  accepted,  genuinely 
beneficial.  Many  had  gained  a  still  stronger  advan- 
tage by  early  association  with  the  truly  worthy  stock 
companies,  then  lingering  firmly  and  maturely  on  their 
last  footing,  but  soon  to  be  weakened  and  finally 
knocked  under  by  the  incoming  tread  of  commer- 
cialism. To  sit  at  the  feet  of  the  great  personages 
dominating  the  stage  at  that  period,  and  to  consciously 
(or  by  absorption),  through  emulation  or  otherwise, 
gain  a  simple  knowledge  of  the  great  art  of  which 
these  personages  were  the  very  vitality,  was  of  no 
small  consequence  of  itself  alone;  but  add  to  that 
the  profitable  discipline  of  practical  instruction,  advice 
and  constant  association  with  such  superior  minds, 
and  one  can  form  some  idea  of  what  a  pliable,  willing 
and  serious  mould  (aided  later  by  matured  individual 
mentality)  might  finally  develop  into.  And  at  that 
time  there  were  truly  not  a  few  at  the  beginning  of 
careers  that  should  have  progressed  to  a  height  of 
distinguished  attainment.  But  this  was  not  to  be. 

And  these  players,  whose  best  purposes  have  been 
so  impeded,  dwarfed,  and  finally  immerged  under  the 
insurmountable  wave  of  abnormal  existence,  who  have 
become  helpless  through  the  inevitable  process  that 
turns  them  into  the  condition  of  quantity,  to  be  in- 
creased or  diminished  in  measure  according  to  their 
immediate  importance  of  commercial  weight  (and 


— 5— 

who  are  lost  to  any  further  pecuniary  advantage  as 
speculative  mediums  for  despotic  injunction),  must 
be  the  first  to  keenest  sense  (their  chains  of  help- 
less subserviency  broken,  and  themselves  neglected 
and  useless)  the  utter  depravity  of  purpose,  corrup- 
tion of  honesty,  and  depredation  of  art  in  such  a 
process  of  histrionic  kidnapping,  and  to  which  (in 
a  sacrifice  of  ideals  and  the  true  spirit  of  emulation) 
they  had  so  carelessly  surrendered,  but  to  walk  the 
path  of  mushroom  vanity,  soon  to  find  it  only  a  slavish, 
ceaseless  treadmill,  dependent  on  a  fixed  machinery 
demanding  mercenary  profit  only;  its  treadwork 
motionless,  the  hireling  finds  himself  still  where  he 
had  started. 

The  list  of  such  histrionic  aspirants  was  no  mean 
one,  and  at  the  present  time  may  be  often  readily  re- 
called by  noting  the  worthy,  if  late,  efforts  of  some 
of  its  individuals  to  materialize  the  expectancy  of  their 
early  hopes,  or  to  continue  the  former  condition  of 
their  interruptedness.  No  better  proof  can  be  offered 
of  the  decadency  of  the  "  first-class  repertoire  system," 
and  a  consequent  detriment  to  art  progress  and  dom- 
inant force  in  the  present-day  actor  ( incapacitating  him 
from  special  usefulness  in  the  stern  and  versatile 
exactions  of  a  varied  range  of  meritorious  plays),  than 
the  generally  popular  and  critical  belief,  after  view- 
ing these  more  recent  efforts,  of  the  inadequacy  of 
the  general  support  offered  the  star  or  stars  attempt- 
ing a  re-establishment  of  their  early  repressed  careers. 

Notwithstanding,  the  era  marking  the  beginning  of 
a  sudden  extravagant  attention  to  the  matter  of  scenic 
and  other  auxiliary  effects,  even  though  often  ex- 
ceeding in  importance  that  of  the  play  and  portrayal 


(and  sometimes  abused  through  the  mean  offices  and 
purposed  counterfeit),  can  not  be  overlooked  in  a 
just  estimate  of  its  benefit  to  a  then  stubbornly  neg- 
lected condition  of  advancement  in  that  direction.  It 
gave  an  impetus  much  needed,  and,  when  honestly 
promulgated,  worked  indeed  a  revelation  in  the  mat- 
ters of  care  and  attention  to  details,  conditions  that 
had  truly  become,  through  sullen  neglect  by  many 
worthy  stars,  matters  of  shocking  consequence.  I 
believe  that,  as  an  import  of  ultimate  grand  good 
to  the  stage,  this  condition  of  superior  production, 
when  genuine,  serves  as  no  mean  recompense  for  the 
marked  decadency  of  the  first-class  repertoire  system. 
There  exists,  we  know,  in  a  popular  form,  catering 
to  audiences  in  cities  and  towns  not  generally  the- 
atrical centres,  a  condition  of  commendable  repertoire. 
We  cannot  deny  that  it  fills  an  important  part  in 
districts  not  frequented  by  many  of  the  better  class 
attractions,  and  where  the  people  cannot  afford  the 
luxury  of  the  latter's  scale  of  high  prices.  Many  of 
these  repertoire  companies  are  of  no  small  merit,  and 
have  occasionally  graduated  exceptionally  proficient 
actors  into  positions  of  special  note;  but,  notwith- 
standing, as  most  of  them  exist  today,  soliciting  ap- 
proval through  most  extraordinary  methods,  playing 
two  performances  a  day  at  ridiculously  low  prices,  and, 
moreover,  endeavoring  to  meet  the  standard  of  the 
patronage  received,  we  cannot  with  truthfulness  say 
that  they  add  any  special  distinction  to  the  theatre, 
nor  do  they  afford  the  proper  medium  through  which 
an  actor  might  hope  to  gain  material  and  artistic 
advancement. 


—7— 

And,  furthermore,  they  sometimes  place  to  dis- 
advantage first-class  attractions  by  monopolizing  the 
solicitation  of  the  people's  patronage  previous  to  the 
advent  of  such  a  company.  But  such  is  not  always  the 
case.  At  other  times  these  repertoire  companies  serve 
a  good  purpose  by  crowding  out  many  of  the  in- 
numerable, inferior  combinations  with  incomplete  pro- 
ductions, pretentious  stars  of  feeble  calibre,  who  hap- 
hazardly are  continually  dumping  in  and  out  of  the 
smaller  cities  and  towns  of  the  country.  These 
repertoire  companies  are  far  preferable  to  such,  and 
in  lieu  of  the  small  admission  fee  exacted,  and  the 
honest  acquaintance  they  make  to  the  people  of  their 
wares,  cannot  be  said  to  forfeit  any  business  integrity, 
nor  falsely  hold  out  any  pledge  of  artistic  superiority. 
Kept  within  the  limitations  of  their  self-exposed  condi- 
tion, they  supply  a  benefit  that  cannot  be  gainsaid.  But 
if  transferred  to  the  test  of  critical  approval  in  a 
theatrical  centre  of  any  importance,  they  naturally 
must  fail  to  justly  realize,  to  a  satisfactory  degree,  the 
exactions  and  expectancy  of  such  a  test,  both  through 
inadequacy  of  production,  and  individual  artistic  por- 
trayal. They  serve  no  recompense  to  offset,  in  any 
way,  the  condition  of  superior  production  that  pre- 
vails in  the  truly  meritorious  one  play  combination 
system  of  today. 

To  bring  about  a  rational  adjustment  of  the  com- 
mercial and  artistic  ends  of  the  theatre  it  needs  now 
the  devoted  individual  strife  of  playwright  and  actor 
towards  the  established  understandment  of,  and  adhe- 
rence to,  a  stipulated  qualification  for  the  practice  of 
their  arts,  and  a  sense  of  stern  business  integrity,  and 
constant  acceptance,  on  the  part  of  the  manager,  of 


this  stipulated  qualification  in  playwright  and  actor,  all 
working  for  a  common  exaltedness  of  the  American 
stage.  This  could  be  well  begun  through  the  medium 
of  the  one  play  combination  system  of  today  if  its 
advantages  were  honestly  and  wisely  pursued. 


Number    eleven    of    "Stage    Affairs,"    appearing 
March  26,  1907,  concerns : 

THE   ONE   PLAY   COMBINATION 
SYSTEM. 

ITS  ADVANTAGES  FOR  ART  ACCOMPLISHMENT,  IF  WISELY 
PURSUED. 


'  A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER/ ELEVEN  \  MARCH  26,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O,    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs*" 


No.  1.  The  Playwright.  The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.  2.  The  Business  Manager.  His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.  3.  The  Actor.  The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.  4.  The  Stage  Manager.  His  Decaying 
Power. 

No.  5.  The  Theatre  Orchestra.  Its  Enforced 
Protrusive  Obedience. 

No.  6.  The  Dramatic  Critic.  The  Rightful 
Censor;  But  Not  Merely  by  "The 
Courtesy  of  the  Theatre. " 

No.  7.  The  Vaudeville  System.  The  Morally 
Illegal  Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant 
Significance. 

No.  8.  The  Prevailing  Stock  System.  Its  Prac- 
tises a  Detriment  to  Art  Aim. 

No.  9.  The  Star  System.  Its  Manifest  Condi- 
tion Generally  Irrelevant  to  the  Con- 
sequence of  Its  True  Meaning. 

No.  10.  The  Repertoire  System.  Many  Compen- 
sations for  It's  Marked  Decadency. 


Copyright,  1907, 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 


—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


XL 

THE   ONE   PLAY   COMBINATION 
SYSTEM. 

ITS  ADVANTAGES  FOR  ART  ACCOMPLISHMENT,  IF  WISELY 
PURSUED. 

I  will  not  claim  that,  within  the  limited  scope  of 
its  direct  employment  and  results,  the  combination 
system  of  today  is  all  that  one  might  wish  for  to 
best  accomplish  a  high  exposition  of  the  actor's  art 
( far  from  it)  ;  but,  considered  with  the  prevailing 
stock  system  and  decadent  repertoire  system,  regard- 
ing the  advantages  offered  for  proper  study,  prepara- 
tion and  finish  (and  most  particularly  in  respect  to 
the  opportunities  and  time  afforded  to  pursue,  in  con- 
junction with  his  compulsory  duties,  the  general  ends 
and  accomplishments  of  the  actors'  vocation),  the 
combination  system  is,  in  my  opinion,  if  wisely  pur- 
sued, inestimably,  and  beyond  any  argumentative  rea- 
soning, of  great  benefit  to,  and  opening  possibilities  of, 
positive  and  lasting  good  results  for,  the  actor  who 
would  strive  to  best  serve  the  profession  of  the 
theatre. 

Granting  the  possession  of  talent,  a  serious  pur- 
pose, and  a  ready  inclination  to  work,  seeming  im- 


2 

possibilities  may  be  accomplished  by  the  proper  appli- 
cation of  a  constant,  concentrated,  progressive  use  of 
these  forces.  Actors  and  actresses,  especially  the 
great  "multitude"  (of  course  there  are  some  excep- 
tions), apply  their  energy  and  talent  solely  to  the 
immediate  exhibition  of  their  skill.  The  fact  that  any 
significant  part  properly  studied  (even  with  no  view 
to  playing  it)  must  enhance  to  some  degree  the 
momentary  condition  of  employed  activity,  seldom 
if  ever  demands  from  them  a  thought  or  care.  The 
immediate  remuneration  is  quite  all  the  concern  they 
know.  Sight-seeing,  sociableness,  cards  and  permea- 
ble literature  consume  a  good  proportion  of  their 
leisure  hours.  There  would  be  no  special  cause  for 
censure  were  they  disposed  to  turn  some  time  and 
attention  to  a  serious  consideration  and  pursuit  of  the 
study  of  the  art  they  still  would  fain  profess.  But 
that  is  a  condition  seldom  to  be  found  in  the  cast  of 
a  travelling  combination.  And  yet  these  majority 
leisure  hours,  if  properly  employed,  can  be  made  the 
preparatory  stages  and  firm  stepping-stones  to  great 
possibilities  of  future  permanence  in  art  development, 
and  its  consequent  just  remuneration. 

The  stock  actor  of  today,  transferring  his  base  of 
operation  to  the  combination  system,  argues  thus: 
"  I  simply  had  to;  two  a  day  (meaning  performances) 

for  the  last years,  why  —  it's  fierce !   just  live 

in  the  theatre,  that's  all.  I  had  to  get  out  on  the 
road."  Before  the  season  is  over  the  chances  are 
that  this  same  actor  (meditating  on  the  condition  of 
decreased  remuneration  and  increased  expenditure, 
obscured,  perhaps,  in  an  uncongenial  part,  wearied 
of  long  jumps  and  night  stands,  maybe)  will  be 


heard  to  say :  "  Never  again  for  me ;  back  to  stock 
and  my  two  a  day.  It's  not  so  bad  in  the  big  cities, 
but  when  you're  up  against  these  "burgs"  (isolated 
cities  and  towns),  why  —  it's  fierce!  on  the  train,  in 
the  hotel,  or  at  the  theatre  —  a  dog's  life."  To  this 
type  of  actor  (and  he  predominates  today)  it  is  in- 
deed a  "  beastly  existence,"  and  the  theatre  business 
truly  a  "  fierce  proposition."  And  so  he  vacillates 
between  the  two  conditions,  and  cannot,  even  through 
an  evident  preference  for  the  former,  add  (because 
of  its  abnormal  practices)  any  merited  distinction 
to  either  its  offices,  or  to  his  own  importance ;  and  in 
his  restless  invasion  and  withdrawal  from  the  latter 
had  not  attempted,  and  cared  not,  to  wisely  employ 
his  idle  moments. 

The  instrumentalist  deems  it  expedient  and  highly 
necessary  at  all  times  to  maintain  a  continual  practice 
of  the  medium  essential  to  the  highest  manifestation 
of  his  art.  Especially  is  this  true  in  a  wise  con- 
templation and  use  of  his  idle  moments.  It  is  a 
drudgery  necessary  to  all  ambitions  if  success  is  to 
be  reached.  But  the  vast  multitude  of  actors  (with 
few  exceptions)  observe  a  contrary  rule;  they  as 
consistently  disregard  (or  misunderstand)  the  value 
of  these  idle  moments,  and  unpardonably  so  when 
unemployed  and  fretting  for  something  to  turn  up. 
There  is  no  excuse  for  this.  While  engaged  in  the 
actual  routine  of  the  travelling  combination,  there 
might  be  shown  at  times,  perhaps,  some  leniency 
in  this  lapse  of  duty  (through  occasional  hardships 
in  travel  and  incommodious  living),  nevertheless  it  is 
an  indisputable  fact  that,  even  so,  the  idle  moments 
are  many  and  continuous  in  which,  were  he  so  dis- 


posed,  the  actor  might  strive  continually  for  an 
ultimate  high  state  of  proficiency  in  his  art,  instead 
of  resting  content,  as  he  mostly  does,  on  a  seeming 
determined  indifference  to  any  such  exalted  aims. 

Today  the  vocation  of  the  actor  is  too  seldom 
taken  seriously  by  its  own  kind.  The  theatre  too 
often  becomes,  not  a  "  work "  house,  but  rather  a 
"  play  "  house  for  the  delectation  of  the  actors'  amuse- 
ment, often  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  rightful  claim- 
ant to  his  divertive  faculty.  During  the  preparation 
of  a  play,  and  at  rehearsals,  a  compulsory  self-in- 
terest, if  nothing  more,  naturally  effects  a  needful 
seriousness  to  a  desirable  general  benefit.  But  I  refer 
to  his  disposition  after  these  preparatory  stages  are 
over,  as  a  member  of  a  travelling  combination,  while 
in  the  theatre  and  during  the  progress  of  the  play. 
In  justice  to  the  actor  let  us  state  that  he  is  often 
obliged  to  suffer  many  discomforts,  hindrances,  and 
annoyances  in  some  of  the  theatres  wherein  he  must 
play  (often  theatres  of  foremost  importance)  as  re- 
gards stages,  dressing-rooms,  and  sanitary  conditions. 
In  many  theatres  in  America  today  the  above  con- 
ditions are  of  the  most  unsuitable,  incommodious  and 
foul  proportions.  The  employer  who  had  subjected 
his  workmen  to  offices  of  such  offensiveness  would 
receive  their  just  indignation  and  severest  censure  for 
such  inhumanity.  It  is  true  that  there  is  a  low  type 
of  actor  who  is  not  particularly  careful  at  all  times 
of  the  managers'  property,  and  wilfully  abuses  well- 
ordered  conveniences.  Such  degradation  points  to 
a  need  of  stern  reformation  effecting  a  more  careful 
discrimination  in  the  now  too  ill- reasoned  condition 
of  engaging  men  and  women  for  such  a  truly  respect- 


—5— 

able  and  highly  intellectual  vocation.  But  neither  the 
manager's  negligence  nor  the  actor's  depravity  can 
excuse  either  in  a  heedless  deviation  from  a  just 
conception  of  their  rightful  obligations  each  to  the 
other. 

I  have  said  that  the  vocation  of  the  actor  is  too 
seldom  seriously  pursued.  There  is  a  reason  for  this 
not  wholly  to  the  ignominy  of  the  actor.  The  business 
manager  of  today  (the  dominant  type)  is,  for  the 
most  part,  a  person  void  of  any  beautiful  idea  of  the 
institution  he  conducts.  He  will  not  even  recognize  it 
as  a  legitimate  business.  He  does  not,  perhaps,  pro- 
claim this  fact  on  the  street  corners,  to  his  audiences, 
or  even  to  his  acquaintances;  but,  nevertheless, 
through  constant  instances  in  daily  contact  with  his 
subsidiary  servants,  he  voluntarily  declares  his  trade 
an  illegitimate  one.  ;<  You  can't  do  things  the  same 
as  you  can  in  a  legitimate  business  —  the  show  busi- 
ness is  different."  That  is  this  particular  manager's 
unshaken  estimate  of  the  institution  he  conducts.  It 
is  different  only  in  that  he  makes  it  so.  A  few  of 
the  type  of  reputable  managers  still  remain.  Many 
have  been  literally  forced,  by  this  present-day  method 
of  procedure,  out  of  the  enjoyment  of  any  further 
profit  to  the  public  or  to  themselves.  Some  have 
deteriorated  to  menial  positions  under  the  irregular 
practices  of  the  dominant  type  that  is  now  seeing  the 
decadent  heights  of  its  gluttonous  excesses.  Void  of 
any  healthy  views  concerning  the  business  balance  of 
the  theatre  (which  is  their  special  charge,  and  which 
they  importantly  conduct  as  such),  how  could  they 
be  expected  to  understand  and  maintain  in  any  dif- 
ferent view  the  exhibits,  material  (and  exposition  of 


same)  necessary  to  the  promotion  of  such  trade?  The 
man  who  is  going  to  do  a  dishonest  business  won't 
bother  to  stock  his  store  with  honest  goods.  And  if 
he  finds  honest  goods  already  there,  they  become  in 
his  hands  of  like  consequence  to  the  purposed  uses 
of  the  rest. 

Today  the  actor  who  is  devotedly  honest  and  serious 
in  his  art  finds  no  relative  just  reward  in  the  common 
estimation  of  the  manager.  He  becomes  of  similar 
importance  with  the  illiterate,  charlatanical  trifler ;  one 
who  often  finds  the  readier  favor  with  managerial 
irregularity,  which  latter  condition  must  sometimes 
surrender  to  the  former's  retaliatory  bombast,  being 
equally  armed  with  the  same  common  weapons  of 
ignorance,  dishonesty  and  nervy  push,  and  wielding 
them  often  with  superior  emphasis.  Consequently  the 
actor  laboring  for  his  art  finds  small  encouragement 
and  little  sympathy.  If  he  would  remain  he  must 
truly  (as  I  have  said  before)  sacrifice  intellectuality, 
temperament,  and  even  manhood  to  hold  his  position. 
Even  more!  It  is  not  in  his  nature  always  to  re- 
taliate. It  is  beneath  him  so  to  do.  The  manager 
often  understands  such  only  to  be  a  lack  of  moral 
courage,  and  adds  advantage  to  his  side.  It  is  true 
that  really  worthy  players  forfeit  their  ideals  and 
emulative  tendencies,  and  find  it  "  wisdom,"  or  seem- 
ingly do,  to  fawn  and  cringe  to  not  endanger  the 
prolongation  of  their  contracted  agreement. 

A  cultured,  polished  gentleman  and  capable  actor 
of  thoroughly  artistic  tastes  once  said  to  me,  when 
I  had  assumed  a  pertinent  attitude  of  defence  against 
one  of  the  most  consummate  fakirs  the  office  of  stage 
management  has  ever  seen  (this  was  in  a  company 


— 7— 

of  the  highest  repute):  "Very  ill-advised;  I  have 
learned  that  I  must  go  over  in  the  corner  and  put 
my  head  in  a  bucket  of  water,  if  they  direct  me  to." 
The  next  season  this  gentleman  was  retained  in  the 
company,  but  with  scarcely  a  speaking  part.  Two 
seasons  later  he  was  away  from  it  altogether.  Totally 
submerged  by  its  water  bucket  environments.  Several 
seasons  have  intervened,  and  he  has  never  re-plunged 
this  much  coveted  reservoir  of  bucket  propensities. 
This  same  company  contained  many  such  similar  cases. 
There  are  many  such  cases  of  similar  companies. 

But  to  continue  our  argument  concerning  the  ad- 
vantages which  the  combination  system  affords  the 
studiously  inclined  actor.  Combinations  of  first-class 
standing  seldom  play  more  than  eight  performances 
in  a  week.  Four  hours  (at  the  very  outside,  four 
hours  and  a  half)  is  the  time  occupied  by  the  actor 
in  discharging  the  actual  duties  of  his  office.  It  is 
often  less  than  four  hours.  An  average  of  six  work- 
ing hours  a  day  for  six  days  in  a  week  would  cover 
a  full  estimate  of  the  actor's  compulsory  obligation 
in  the  routine  of  a  well  -  regulated  combination. 
One  can  readily  see  the  vast  opportunity  open  to 
the  actor  for  a  continual  effort  to  improve  his  con- 
dition and  his  art,  even  if  he  devoted  no  more  than 
an  hour  or  two  each  day  to  the  task. 

Of  course  the  actor  is  often  obliged  to  spend  extra 
time  at  the  theatre  rehearsing.  These  rehearsals, 
although  sometimes  justly  exacted  and  through  real 
necessity,  are,  nevertheless,  many  times  merely  the 
presumptuous  summons  of  supererogatory  stage  man- 
agers; although  perhaps  dictating  at  the  even  more 
arrogant  command  of  some  "  featured "  individual, 


who,  thoroughly  inefficient,  and  under  continual  pet- 
ulancy  at  the  lack  of  outside  adulatory  notice,  com- 
mensurate with  steadily  focussed  self-regardfulness, 
and  dimmed  by  a  company  receiving  public  and  crit- 
ical preference,  seeks  an  outlet  for  this  ill-temper 
(thereby  adding  a  self-inflicted  aggravation)  by  fret- 
fully enduring,  in  common  with  those  unjustly  taxed, 
the  like  penalty  of  a  useless  rehearsal.  Or  the 
summons  may  come  from  the  discontented  manager, 
who,  hardened  to  (or  ignorant  of)  any  true  appre- 
ciation of  the  actors'  importance,  views  the  situation 
only  from  the  unsatisfactory  box-office  returns.  And 
sometimes,  and  by  no  means  infrequently,  these  un- 
just demands  issue  from  the  contemptible  supposition 
that  rehearsals  are  really  necessary  in  order  to  keep 
in  check  any  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  actor  to 
assume  a  condition  of  undue  self-esteem  that  might 
perhaps  lead  to  something  more  alarming.  Then  there 
is  the  dreaded  summons  by  the  author-manager. 
Unless  he  be  a  person  of  dignified  prominence,  truly 
gifted,  conscious  of  man's  fallability,  in  short,  a  really 
superior  playwright,  there  will  be  no  adverse  crit- 
icism of  his  composition  that  cannot  be  readily  laid 
to  the  incompetency  of  the  individual  efforts  of  his 
company.  The  foamy  pomposity  and  exposed  vacuity 
of  such  persons  is  indeed  pitiable  in  their  endeavors 
to  seek  out  of  chaff  nutritious  material.  Here  the 
rehearsal  becomes  a  thing  of  imposture  and  criminal 
exhaustion. 

A  properly  constructed  play  that  has  been  ade- 
quately and  thoroughly  rehearsed  by  a  skilled  hand 
becomes,  like  a  piece  of  machinery  or  a  clock,  well- 
ordered  mechanism.  It  needs  adjusting  and  regu- 


— 9— 

lating  from  time  to  time,  it  is  true,  but  constant  tinker- 
ing by  the  unskilled  hand,  as  with  machinery  and  a 
clock,  can  only  clog  and  impede  its  proper  functions.  I 
have  known  such  a  play  to  progress  throughout  a  sea- 
son without  a  rehearsal  (except  the  few  occasioned  by 
an  unavoidable  change  in  the  cast),  and  steadily 
to  the  betterment  every  way  of  the  play  and  actor. 
To  harass,  harangue  and  fatigue  by  constant  tinkering, 
the  necessary  agents  that  keep  in  motion  the  play- 
wright's model,  only  uselessly  wastes  the  tissues  of 
those  agents,  and  materially  impairs  the  model  itself. 
I  am  not  speaking  of  the  play  in  the  hands  of  the 
skilled,  experienced  and  just  regulator.  Notwith- 
standing, even  with  the  addition  of  important  (or 
unimportant)  rehearsals,  the  certain  necessity  of  travel 
and  its  resultant  condition  of  fatigue,  the  actor  play- 
ing in  the  combination  still  has  many  idle  moments 
full  of  golden  opportunity  to  materially  advance  him 
in  his  art.  That  he  does  not  generally  accept  such 
is  a  matter  of  no  small  consequence  in  estimating  the 
continual  decadency  of  histrionic  art  and  the  high 
designs  of  the  theatre. 

I  have  mentioned  (in  justice  to  the  actor)  some 
of  the  annoyances  and  indignities  he  is  often  sub- 
jected to  while  a  member  of  a  travelling  combination. 
Granting  that  today  in  some  companies  there  does 
not  exist  a  condition  of  such  unnecessary  friction 
(but  they  are  few),  even  so,  wherein  does  the  actor 
specially  merit  from  the  manager  —  through  any  in- 
dividual marked  effort  on  his  part  to  benefit  his  own 
condition,  and  so  to  more  fittingly  serve  that  man- 
ager who  places  in  the  actor's  hands  a  partial  power 
at  least  to  make  or  mar  the  material  of  his  invest- 


—la- 
ment—  a  deeper  respect,  higher  dignity,  and  greater 
consideration  than  that  degree  of  questionable  con- 
sequence which  is  now  alloted  him?  If  the  manager 
in  a  general  estimate  thinks  that  "all  actors  are  alike," 
and  looks  upon  them  as  vacillating,  capricious,  un- 
reliable persons,  and  engages  them  only  to  supply 
the  immediate  commercial  necessity,  —  property  read- 
ily obtained,  and  as  easily  dispensed  with,  —  it  is 
also  true  that  the  actor  today,  commonly  estimating 
the  manager,  views  him  with  no  less  doubting  mind, 
believing  with  equal  firmness  that  "  all  managers  are 
alike,"  and  that  they,  too,  are  merely  commercial 
necessities,  but  quite  reversely  —  troublesome  to  ob- 
tain, and  hard  to  be  dispensed  with. 

It  is  the  positive  existence  of  this  dual  condition 
today  (a  tendency  of  both  manager  and  actor  to 
doubt  the  other's  sincereness,  and  to  view  with  skep- 
ticism the  actions  and  motives  of  the  other)  that 
deprives  the  institution  of  the  theatre  of  an  essential 
co-harmonious  effort  quite  necessary  for  the  highest 
approximate  attainment  of  idealism,  without  the  pos- 
session of  which  no  mission  can  ever  be  at  most 
properly  fulfilled.  That  spirit  of  endeavor  that  moves 
and  urges  one  on  to  a  constant  strife  for  the  attain- 
ment of  the  highest  condition  possible  in  any  chosen 
worthy  walk  of  life. 

In  America  today  this  cannot  be  truthfully  said  of 
the  vast  multitude  of  actors  that  are  daily  squeezing 
and  being  pushed  in  and  out  of  the  ranks  of  the 
countless  non-purposed  companies  that  almost  hourly 
are  being  precipitated  into  an  already  much  over- 
crowded field  of  activity.  It  is  this  enormous  over- 
balancing majority  condition  which  holds  no  settled 


—11— 

understanding  of  the  best  intentions  of  the  theatre, 
nor  seeks  to  find  one,  that  mostly  goes  to  make  up 
the  grand  totality  of  the  actor's  profession.  Each 
individual,  in  his  heedlessness  of  any  attainment  of 
high  things  in  his  vocation,  strikes  as  great  a  blow 
for  its  impoverishment  as,  in  a  proper  carefulness, 
he  might  strike  for  its  enrichment.  The  advantages 
for  such  are  innumerable  to  the  actor  engaged  in  the 
travelling  combination. 

The  hours  afforded  for  study,  mental  improvement, 
constant  progression  towards  artistic  finish  in  the 
art  of  the  actor  are  constantly  at  hand.  If  it  does 
not  lie  within  the  self-reliant  possibilities  of  his  in- 
dividual understanding,  there  are  other  means  at  hand 
to  establish  some  settled  form,  some  fundament,  some 
sort  of  system  of  procedure  through  which  to  de- 
velop the  art  he  deigns  to  practise.  There  certainly 
are  treatises  of  enough  conviction  on  which  to  base 
a  plan  of  study.  There  are  truly  worthy  professors 
of  oratory,  dramatic  expression,  and  their  adjunctive 
essentials.  They  are  at  least  available  during  the 
vacation  days.  One  may  return  again  to  them.  The 
instrumentalist  seldom  stops  at  one  master.  He  seeks 
many.  In  the  hour  of  his  greatest  achievement  he 
is  still  a  student. 

Why  should  the  actor,  playing  upon  the  most  divine 
of  instruments,  the  human  body,  rest  content  upon 
the  mere  supposition  that  within  that  body  lies,  un- 
aided by  any  special  concentration  of  mentality,  devel- 
opment of  expression,  or  cultivation  of  speech,  the 
intuitive  instincts  to  reproduce  the  varied  and  lofty 
types  of  superior  humanity?  Perhaps  at  our  birth  a 
vocation  may  be  given  us ;  but  it  is  in  our  individual 


—12— 

self  to  make  that  vocation  what  the  best  forces  of 
nature  through  character,  energy  and  cultivation  are 
capable  of  attaining.  That  can  only  be  done  by  a 
serious  respect  for  the  vocation,  a  devotion  to  its 
best  aims,  and  willing  drudgery.  There  is  no  con- 
dition of  the  theatre  so  open  to  great  possibilities 
for  the  employment  of  these  stipulations  as  is  apparent 
in  the  combination  system  of  today. 


Number    twelve    of    "  Stage    Affairs,"    appearing 
April  2,  1907,  concerns : 

THE   DRAMATIC    SCHOOL. 

ITS  FUTILE  RESULTS. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER  TWELVE  APRIL  2,  1907 


STAGE    AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O,    BOX    1341 
SINGLE   NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs, 


No.  1.  The  Playwright.  The  Vital  Importance 
of  His  Commission. 

No.  2.  The  Business  Manager.  His  True  Mis- 
sion. 

No.  3.  The  Actor.  The  Quality  of  His  Import- 
ance. 

No.  4.  The  Stage  Manager.  His  Decaying 
Power. 

No.  5.  The  Theatre  Orchestra.  Its  Enforced 
Protrusive  Obedience. 

No.  6.  The  Dramatic  Critic.  The  Rightful 
Censor;  But  Not  Merely  by  "The 
Courtesy  of  the  Theatre. " 

No.  7.  The  Vaudeville  System.  The  Morally 
Illegal  Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant 
Significance. 

No.  8.  The  Prevailing  Stock  System.  Its  Prac- 
tises a  Detriment  to  Art  Aim. 

No.  9.  The  Star  System.  Its  Manifest  Condi- 
tion Generally  Irrelevant  to  the  Con- 
sequence of  Its  True  Meaning. 

No.  10.    The  Repertoire  System.    Many  Compen- 
sations for  It's  Marked  Decadency. 
No.  11.    The  One  Play  Combination  System.     Its 

Advantages  for  Art  Accomplishment, 

If  Wisely  Pursued. 


Copyright,  1007, 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today* 

—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


XII. 
THE   DRAMATIC   SCHOOL. 

ITS  FUTILE  RESULTS. 

There  are  some  academies  of  dramatic  art  in  Amer- 
ica, which  in  a  wishful  serious  intention  to  prepare 
men  and  women  for  the  profession  of  acting,  possess 
many  virtues.  They  employ  studies  with  fundamental 
principles,  expounding  to  a  creditable  degree,  through 
stages  of  proper  progression,  a  general  outline  of  the 
expressions  chiefly  to  be  employed  in  the  art  of  acting. 
These  schools  certainly  do  no  positive  harm;  and 
would,  perhaps  (if  sought  by  men  and  women  pos- 
sessed with  a  desire  to  work  patiently  through  a  more 
extended  course  of  instruction),  accomplish  worthy 
things,  if — provided  a  fitting  medium  reciprocating, 
fostering  and  maintaining,  to  a  substantial  degree, 
the  preparatory  intentions  of  such  academies,  colleges, 
schools  of  oratory  and  dramatic  art,  and  so  eventually 
might  prove  of  some  positive  benefit  to  the  institution 
of  the  theatre  and  the  true  cause  of  dramatic  art. 


2 

There  is  another  class,  however,  a  vile  abomination 
masquerading  under  the  name — school  of  acting.  At 
the  head  is  generally  to  be  found  a  man  or  a  woman, 
retired,  often  forced  from  active  service,  now  seeking 
a  living  by  ruthlessly  transmitting  to  stage-struck  men 
and  women  (under  the  guise  of  dramatic  instruction) 
the  mannerisms,  defects,  ignorance  and  (often  times) 
illiteracy, — baneful  conditions  that  "years  of  experi- 
ence" have  generally  magnified  the  more, — of  himself 
(or  herself),  and  untutored  assistants,  not  hardly  one 
of  whom  has  ever  had  a  respectful  care  for  the  true 
significance  of  the  art  of  acting.  And  they  form  the 
faculty,  if  I  may  ab-use  the  term,  of  a  school  of  dra- 
matic art.  These  schools  generally  charge  a  tuition  fee 
of  about  four  hundred  dollars  for  a  term  of  six 
months'  duration,  three  hundred  of  which  must  be 
deposited  in  advance,  the  other  one  hundred  at  the 
expiration  of  one-half  of  the  term.  Did  these  schools 
accomplish  anything  towards  advancing  the  pupil  to 
a  desirable  preparatory  state  to  enter  the  profession  of 
acting,  we  would  have  little  to  say;  but  they  do  not, 
and  it  is  unreasonable  to  suppose  they  ever  could. 

I  know  from  personal  acquaintance,  and  through 
information  gained  from  many  of  the  pupils  (by  their 
voluntary  confessions),  the  existing  conditions  in 
these  schools.  An  instructor  in  one  volunteered  this 
brazen  conviction: — "I'll  tell  you  how  I  handle  'em. 
I  stand  'em  up  in  front  of  me,  and  say, — now  you  act 
and  talk  just  as  though  you  were  in  your  own  parlor, — 
that's  all  acting  is."  Confessions  from  the  pupils  of 
these  schools  verified  the  above  statement.  The  "meth- 
ods" of  other  instructors  are  equally  as  incomplete 


and  wholly  dependent  on  the  pupil's  crude  aptness. 
They  provide  themselves  with  play  books;  parts  are 
assigned  to  them,  and  they  are  given  to  understand 
that  in  the  mere  confused  rehearsing  of  them  they  are 
getting  a  practical  sufficient  preparatory  stage  training 
in  the  ridiculously  short  space  of  a  few  months,  in  ill- 
fitting  environments,  and  under  the  willing  direction 
of  men  and  women  who,  of  course,  must  know  too 
well  the  presumptousness  and  impossibility  of  any  one 
attempting,  under  such  conditions,  to  impart  a  pre- 
paratory knowledge  even  of  the  art  of  the  actor. 

These  schools  are  glaring  examples  of  obtaining 
money  under  false  pretences,  and  of  the  unreasoned 
actions  of  many  men  and  women  to  quickest  feed  their 
feverish  germs  of  "stage  struckedness."  In  the  major- 
ity of  cases,  young  men  and  women  who  enter  these 
schools  are  literally  defrauded  of  their  money,  and  fin- 
ally left  as  destitute  of  an  immediate  prospect  of  a 
stage  career  as  though  they  had  never  forsook  the 
cheery  comforts  of  home,  then  minus  these  comforts 
plus  the  unavoidable  discommodiousness  and  disturb- 
ances of  boarding  house  life.  Or  else,  and  more  to 
be  censured  and  less  to  be  pitied,  they  miss  their  sole 
purpose  in  courting  one  of  these  schools, — to  get  on  the 
stage,  not  to  study  a  great  art. 

To  become  proficient  in  the  arts  men  and  women 
must  prepare  and  study  for  years  to  gain  such  advance- 
ment, and  to  attain  a  desired  finish  to  their  studious 
efforts.  Acting  is  an  art!  Its  incumbents  carve  the 
inscription — artist.  Yet  what  do  they  studiously  en- 
dure to  deserve  it?  The  sculptor,  the  painter,  the 
musician,  the  instrumentalist  pass  years  in  study  to 


rightfully  claim  the  appellation — artist.  They  must 
possess  natural  inclinations  for  their  art  of  course,  but 
where  that  stops  their  work  begins,  if  they  would  be- 
come artists  in  the  cultured  sense  of  the  term.  To  be 
sure  it  is  not  always  necessary  to  study  to  be  able  to 
play  "tunes"  and  "jigs";  but  you  must  if  you  want 
to  play  something  more.  The  stage  is  strewn  with  men 
and  women  who  can  play  only  "tunes"  and  "jigs," — 
and  then  not  always  do  they  play  in  tune.  Such  have 
no  right  to  profess  an  art  of  which  they  have  no  care- 
ful knowledge,  nor  ambition  to  seek  the  means  to  pro- 
cure one,  nor  even  a  desire  to  so  do ! 

Over  twenty  years  ago  a  movement  was  started  in 
America  to  "reform  the  drama."  Its  immediate  scene 
of  action  was  at  a  theatre  in  the  vicinity  of  Broadway 
and  Twenty-third  street,  New  York  City.  This  re- 
form was  to  be  effected  principally  through  the  instill- 
ing into  the  incumbents  of  the  company  at  this  theatre, 
and  the  pupils  of  its  preparatory  school,  the  teachings 
of  a  truly  great  philosopher,  and  his  discovery  and 
revelations  of  laws  governing  man's  expressions.  The 
direct  intent  of  the  introduction  of  this  system  (as  op- 
posed to  established  methods  of  other  theatres)  was, 
to  quote  from  an  official  on  the  business  staff  of  the 
first  named  theatre,  to  pit  "brains  against  experience — 
intelligence  against  traditions" ;  and  its  confident  hope 
was,  to  again  quote  and  now  from  an  authority  in  the 
art  department  of  this  theatre, — "the  development  of  a 
new  stock  of  actors" ;  and  to  quote  further,  "the  novice 
accomplishes  now  in  two  years  what  was  done  by  the 
old  actor  in  fifteen  years."  Here  let  me  say  that  the 
mention  of  this  system  is  intended  only  in  so  far  as 


—5— 

it  may  serve  to  the  more  fittingly  connect  the  facts  I 
am  about  to  state,  and  not  in  any  manner  intended  to 
gainsay  the  inestimable  value  of  that  great  teacher's 
wonderful  revelations  when  viewed  as  philosophy,  and 
pursued  as  such. 

Employed  under  the  proprietorship  of  this  theatre, 
as  its  executive  head,  was  a  gentleman  who  has  since 
risen  to  notorious  individual  distinction  in  the  affairs 
of  the  American  stage.  He  was  assisted  by  his  two 
brothers,  one  of  whom  today  shares  at  least  an  equal, 
if  not  a  greater  position  of  distinction  than  the  one 
first  mentioned.  It  may  be  truly  said  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  history  of  the  "theatrical  doings"  of  the 
last  twenty  years  in  America  is  the  history  of  the  "ven- 
tures" of  these  two  gentlemen.  The  stage  manager  of 
this  theatre  (and  what  the  term  truly  implies)  was 
a  talented  personage,  who  today  stands,  in  the  true  sig- 
nificance of  the  word,  a  stage  manager  pre-eminent: 
and  in  so  far  as  his  judgment  and  practice  has  allowed 
him  to  proceed,  an  exceedingly  wise  one,  in  that  he 
ever  unerringly  selects  foundational  colors  secure 
enough  upon  which  to  rest  the  textures  of  his  varied 
technical  and  architectural  skill. 

In  connection  with  this  theatre  was  another  gentle- 
man— cultured,  learned;  working  (as  we  have  no 
doubt)  ideally,  honestly  and  enthusiastically  at  that 
time.  He  was  termed  "dramatic  director,"  and  also 
"dramatic  scientist."  This  gentleman  had  (to  quote 
again), — "the  sympathy  and  co-operation"  of  the  pro- 
prietor and  the  executive  head  of  this  theatre.  Since 
the  inception  of  that  theatre,  in  its  honest  purpose  to 
"reform  the  drama,"  and  up  to  the  present  hour,  this 


gentleman  has  been  virtually  (if  earlier  with  an 
occasional  change  of  base)  at  the  head  of  an  academy  of 
dramatic  arts,  and  receiving  throughout  its  existence, 
— "the  sympathy  and  co-operation"  of  the  great  power 
which  has  held  for  many  years,  by  its  managerial  prom- 
inence, the  best  patronage  which  the  theatre  can  boast. 
Into  the  channel  of  this  controlling  power,  this  much 
coveted  medium  for  histrionic  endeavor,  might  freely 
enter  and  abound, — the  "brains"  that  were  to  offset 
"experience,"  the  "intelligence"  that  was  to  take  the 
place  of  "traditions," — conditions  which  were  to  effect 
in  time  "the  development  of  a  new  stock  of  actors." 

Throughout  the  evolution  of  this  movement  begun 
over  twenty  years  ago  to  "reform  the  drama,"  and  to 
the  present  time,  not  one  name  of  any  special  worth  or 
permanent  continuance  has  been  supplied  through  the 
medium  of  such  academy  of  dramatic  arts  fostered  by 
the  sympathetic  and  co-operate  help  of  the  most  prom- 
inent and  energetic  managerial  force  of  the  time.  The 
many  names  of  histrionic  splendor  that  illumined  the 
daily  records  of  the  stage  at  the  inception  of  this  ref- 
ormation of  the  drama  have  mostly  passed  on  to  stage 
history,  and  there  inerasable  stand,  casting  honor  and 
distinction  on  the  American  stage  by  the  highest  de- 
velopment of  their  talents  attained  through  rightfully 
pursued  long  experience,  and  a  sane  adherence  to  the 
best  traditions  properly  adjusted  to  the  present  envi- 
ronments, constantly  promoted  and  bettered  by  a  ra- 
tional application  of  "brains"  and  "intelligence"  put 
to  their  highest  uses  at  all  times.  They  required  learn- 
ing; they  became  scholars, — self- thoughtful,  educated 
men  and  women. 


—7— 

"The  development  of  a  new  stock  of  actors"  by  dra- 
matic science,  wherein  "the  novice  accomplishes  now 
in  two  years"  by  brains  and  intelligence  "what  was 
done  by  the  old  actor  in  fifteen  years"  by  experience 
and  traditions ,  has  not  been  accomplished ;  the  desired 
resultant  condition  of  these  combined  forces  working 
in  "sympathy  and  co-operation"  is  not  in  any  way  ap- 
parent. A  new  stock  may  have  been  developed,  but 
it  exists  only  in  a  degenerate  state  of  histrionic  an- 
cestry in  its  inefficiency  to  cope  with  the  brain  exac- 
tions and  thoughtful  intelligence  necessary  to  strength- 
en experience  and  to  properly  adjust  the  present  con- 
ditions to  the  best  traditions  of  the  stage  in  an  ade- 
quate exposition  of  dramatic  art. 

If  this  bond  of  "sympathy  and  co-operation"  has  been 
an  honest  one  there  can  be  no  disgrace  in  the  failure 
of  its  purposes.  But  if  one  part  of  its  stipulate  force, 
in  its  flight  for  ideals  and  reformation  in  the  drama, 
may  have  surrendered  and  succumbed  to  the  managerial 
conduct  of  its  sympathetic  and  co-operate  ally,  know- 
ing the  impossibility  of  promoting  and  advancing  art 
through  the  channels  of  that  ally's  supreme  spirit  of 
commercial  monopoly,  then  such  an  academy  of  dra- 
matic arts  is  no  more  than  an  institution  advertising 
and  existing  first'  and  all- important  for  mere  pecuniary 
gain,  draining  into  the  cesspool  of  degenerate  histrion- 
ism  any  willing  substance  that  may  be  caught  in  the 
vortex  of  its  commercial  whirl.  Its  mission,  speaking 
through  its  non-resultant  effects,  has  become  worth- 
less; and  through  its  inability  to  regenerate  a  worthy 
stock  of  actors,  bespeaks  its  unfitness  either  way, — 
through  the  failure  of  its  honest  endeavors  to  carry  out 


its  original  design,  or  through  its  subservience  to  an 
improper  medium  into  which  it  may  graduate  its  pu- 
pils,— and  holds  no  boast  to  any  reformation  of  the 
drama. 

The  so-called  "school  of  dramatic  art,"  the  very  es- 
sence of  hopeless  futility,  should  be  declaimed  into  the 
refuse  of  its  self -spoken  worthlessness ! 


Number  thirteen  of  "Stage  Affairs"  appearing  April 
9,  1907,  concerns : 

ACTING. 

ITS  TANGIBILITY  AS  AN  ART  TO  BE  STUDIED. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  Issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

""*"  ~~~~~ 

NUMBER  \THIRTEEN  APRIL  9,  1907 


STAGE   AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE    NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs." 


I.    The   Playwright:    The  Vital   Importance   of 

His  Commission. 
II.     The  Business  Manager:   His  True  Mission. 

III.  The  Actor :  The  Quality  of  His  Importance. 

IV.  The  Stage  Manager:   His  Decaying  Power. 
V.    The  Theatre  Orchestra:    Its    Enforced    Pro- 
trusive Obedience. 

VI.     The  Dramatic  Critic:    The  Rightful  Censor; 
but  Not  Merely  "  By  the  Courtesy  of  the 
Theatre." 
VII.     The  Vaudeville  System:   The  Morally  Illegal 

Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant  Significance. 
VIII.     The  Prevailing  Stock  System:    Its  Practices 

a  Detriment  to  Art  Aim. 

IX.     The    Star    System:    Its   Manifest   Condition 
Generally  Irrelevant  to  the   Consequence 
of  Its  True  Meaning. 
X.    The  Repertoire  System :   Many  Compensations 

for  Its  Marked  Decadency. 

XL     The  One  Play  Combination  System:    Its  Ad- 
vantages for  Art  Accomplishment  if  Wisely 
Pursued. 
XII.    The  Dramatic  School :   Its  Futile  Results. 


Copyright,  1907, 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today, 


—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


XIII. 

ACTING. 

ITS  TANGIBILITY   AS  AN   ART  TO  BE   STUDIED. 

Before  there  can  be  a  truly  great  national  drama, 
American  dramatists  must  first  learn  a  true  signifi- 
cance of  the  barbaric  nobility  and  crude  splendor  of 
its  original  natural  occupancy,  of  its  valiant  struggle 
against  the  usurpation  of  unequally  equipped  civiliza- 
tion. It  must  justly  view  through  the  epochs  of 
Columbus,  Washington  and  Lincoln  the  evolution  of 
the  stern  necessities  then  essential  to  fittingly  expose, 
uplift,  and  finally  apply  the  early  latent,  unencouraged, 
but  significantly  founded,  intellectuality  of  this  prim- 
itive and  rightful  claimant  to  its  land.  Find  in  that 
source  an  idealism  for  true  exaltedness,  stripped  of 
the  patois  inconsequence,  the  sole  physical  heroism 
that  has  ever  cheapened  its  best  possibilities,  and  give 
to  it  a  language,  that  it  may  bespeak  through  a  pointed 
diction,  the  loftiest  motives  and  deeds  of  its  noblest 
people  and  foremost  individual  personages.  We  may 
then  see  for  our  country  the  possible  worthiness  of 


—2— 

its  perpetuity  in  the  records  of  valuable  dramaturgy. 
I  am  speaking,  of  course,  from  the  standpoint  of  a 
highest  understood  knowledge  of  the  true  importance 
of  our  theatre. 

The  American  play  of  today  for  the  most  part 
caricatures  Americanism.  It  finds  much  favor,  it  is 
true,  particularly  in  congested  populations;  it  amuses 
most  generally,  perhaps.  Although  in  the  districts 
whose  people  it  caricatures  it  is  often  severely  crit- 
icised and  many  times  censured  and  ridiculed  for  its 
impudent  exaggerations,  still  even  there  it  amuses 
and  exhilarates  by  the  sole  fact  of  its  sauciness;  but 
this  is  not  the  American  play.  Nor  does  it  consist 
in  the  squabbling  exposition  of  squalid  disturbances 
of  oppressing  opulency,  and  ignorant  understanding 
of  justifiable  competence;  nor  in  the  unbalanced  preju- 
dices of  our  great  national  crises.  The  national 
drama  lies  in  the  idealizing  and  justly  balancing  of  the 
virtues  and  vices  of  its  truly  important  periods  and 
personages,  their  events  and  deeds,  through  the  in- 
tellectuality, elegance  and  effectualness  of  simplicity, 
intermediary  and  sublimity  in  the  diction  of  its  native 
tongue. 

Today  the  American  playwright  transplaces  com- 
mon incidents  and  types  of  everyday  existence  to 
the  environed  illusiveness  of  the  stage.  It  is  no 
severe  task  to  so  do ;  and  it  is  no  special  consequence 
to  interpret  such.  Everyday  life  is  crowded  with 
individuals  possessing  dramatic  instincts,  capable  in 
their  crude  origin  of  interpreting  such  commonplace- 
ness.  And  yet,  this  limited  natural  endowment  is, 
generally  speaking,  in  America  to-day  the  accepted 
standard  of  an  estimation  of  the  art  of  acting.  In  the 
name  of  traditioned  achievements  and  witnessed  art 


—3— 

in  true  histrionic  ability,  the  gods  forbid  that  it  should 
forever  so  remain. 

Not  long  ago  a  foremost  player,  one  annually  tour- 
ing this  country,  spoke  upon  the  subject,  "The  Art 
of   Acting."     His   discourse   was   afterwards,   in   an 
improved   state,   published.     When   all   was    said,    it 
might  be  summed  up  thus:    That  after  all,  as  com- 
pared with  other  arts,  there  was  nothing  tangible  to 
acting,  and  —  that  "  actors,  like  poets,  are  born,  not 
made."    A  direct  contradiction,  it  would  seem  to  me, 
to  the  title  of  the  subject  matter  of  his   discourse. 
Considerably  more  than  ten  years  ago  this  actor  es- 
sayed one  of  the  great  classic  roles.     At  that  time, 
as  well  as  now,  he  was  enjoying  truly  deserved  pop- 
ularity in  a  line  of  interesting  parts.     Much  concern 
was  manifested  in  his  ambitious  departure  from  well 
trodden  paths.     In  critical  opinion  and  in  public  ex- 
pectancy, he  failed  totally.     On  the  evening  of  the 
second   performance,   before   the  play  proceeded,   he 
called  the  principal  members  of  the  company  to  his 
dressing  room,  and  (unheedful  of  the  well-meant  crit- 
icism and  advice  bestowed)  admonished  his  associates 
that,   notwithstanding   the   unmerciful   "  slating "    re- 
ceived, they  "  must  have  the  courage  of  their  con- 
victions."    He  travelled  to  another  city.     The  same 
result.     He  finally  defied  fate  in  the  great  theatrical 
centre  of  all.     His  failure  was  complete.     Since  that 
time,  many  years  ago,  I  have  not  known  of  his  essay- 
ing any  role  of  truly  classic  distinction. 

He  is  an  actor  endowed  by  nature  for  the  stage ; 
let  us  confess  —  a  born  actor.  Resonant,  sonorous 
(yet  flexible  and  mellow)  voice,  classic  mould  of 
features.  Physical  proportions  of  beautiful  natural 
symmetry,  free  from  defects  and  deformities.  He 


possesses  repose,  elegance  and  energy.  Although  en- 
dowed by  nature  to  adorn  the  poetic,  classic  drama, 
he  could  not  even  approximate  the  test;  he  did  not 
(we  will  say)  supply  the  art,  without  which  all  the 
attributes  of  nature  were  naught.  And  now  today 
he  recognizes  nothing  tangible  in  the  art  of  acting. 
No,  "actors,  like  poets,  are  born,  not  made." 

If  we  are  willing  to  accept  every  kind  and  condi- 
tion of  rhymster  and  versifier  who  heedlessly  heaps 
his  untutored,  illiterate  musings  on  our  heads,  and  so 
proclaim  him  poet,  then  indeed  may  the  actor  with 
justification  find  in  his  untaught  condition  an  equal 
claim  to  ready  consideration.  But  I  do  not  believe 
it  is  so  adjudged,  although  the  art  of  poesy  has  too 
long  been  left  to  sad  neglect,  and  indiscriminately 
made  a  mart  for  wanton  cunning  to  ply  his  trade. 
This  type  of  both  poet  and  actor  has  quite  long 
enough  boasted  a  "  corner "  in  the  "  divine  gift " 
market.  The  genuine  poet  must  be  the  scholar,  ardent 
student,  profound  thinker.  Therein  reposes,  immov- 
able, his  true  greatness.  It  is  that  learning,  that  mental 
discipline,  which  transforms  invention  and  fancy  into 
transcendental  verse.  Merely  a  prismatic  reflex  tinge 
of  that  richly  founded  storehouse,  learning,  running 
off  into  tints  of  infinite  poetic  beauty.  That  is  art. 
The  art  of  poesy.  It  is  that  same  quality  of  scholarly, 
studious,  profound  thoughtfulness,  disciplined  mental 
concentration,  that  must  equally  predominate  in  every 
strife  for  histrionic  splendor. 

I  shall  herein  briefly  expose  the  method  of  pro- 
cedure of  this  worthy  player  just  now  mentioned,  re- 
garding the  production  of  the  classic  play  then  under 
consideration.  This  estimable  actor  and  gentleman 
personally  directed,  with  automatical  autocracy,  all  his 


—5— 

players.  His  prompt  book  was  arranged  from  the 
"  first  folio "  edition  of  the  play,  which,  it  is  gen- 
erally conceded,  abounds  in  misprints,  and  words 
whose  obsoleteness  become,  in  a  stubborn  retention 
of  them,  matters  of  absurdity  and  indiscretion  in  a 
present-day  production  of  any  play  wherein  they 
originally  appeared.  The  parts  distributed  to  the 
players  were  typewritten  ones,  and  badly  done  at  that. 
But  the  appearance  (at  rehearsals?)  of  any  printed 
edition  of  the  play  was,  regarding  the  possessor,  a 
cause  for  instant  censure  and  admonition  against  fur- 
ther offending.  The  rehearsals  to  this  great  classic 
play  were  conducted  precisely  as  if  it  had  been  a 
modern  composition,  in  that  it  was  continually  and 
vitally  altered  and  re-altered  in  text  and  "  business  " 
from  the  day  of  the  first  rehearsal  to  the  very  last 
moment  preceding  the  opening  performance.  Such 
conditions,  especially  in  the  preparation  of  a  standard 
work,  are  abominable,  unwise,  and  totally  unnecessary. 
But  another  matter  wholly  eclipsed  this  state  of 
wasteful  energy  and  nerve  force.  It  was  the  glar- 
ing unpreparedness  in  the  company  to  meet  in  any 
degree  at  all  the  simplest  exactions  of  this  universally 
popular  classic.  And  in  this  state  of  unpreparedness, 
the  one  most  particularly  soliciting  favor  and  patron- 
age stood  a  self-evinced  culprit,  albeit  he  earnestly 
avowed  that  he  had  made  of  the  part  a  life  study. 
The  rendition  of  the  diction,  and  the  determining  and 
employing  of  stage  "  business,"  was  very  largely  a 
matter  of  chance.  No  attempt  to  essay  a  character 
of  such  truly  classic  distinction  could  succeed,  nor 
should  it  deserve  to,  when  the  chief  factor  to  its 
highest  exposition  had  formed  no  settled  knowledge 
of  the  possibilities  and  essential  force  of  its  elocu- 


tionary  importance.  The  whole  play  was  arranged 
for  performance  as  at  the  first  might  have  been  any 
of  the  modern  ones  contained  in  the  repertoire  of 
this  born  actor. 

No  one  was  ever  truly  great  through  nature's  gifts 
alone.  The  highest  knowledge  of  their  possession, 
and  the  energy  to  righteously  pursue  them,  alone 
could  make  him  so.  To  that  end  we  must  accept 
some  tangible  form,  and  become  a  slave  in  our  fidelity 
to  its  teachings,  if  we  would  wish  to  attain  true 
exaltedness.  The  above  notable  case  is  but  one  of 
many  among  those  enjoying  high  distinction  in  the 
theatre  who  repudiate  any  system  or  suggestion  that 
could  be  employed  to  establish  the  art  of  acting  on 
a  tangible  basis. 

Inspiration  is  the  compensation  the  work  makes  for 
an  earnest,  ardent  love  and  devotion  to  it.  Success 
is  in  sitting  down  to  it,  going  at  it,  and  sticking  to 
it  until  you  arrive  at  something.  Through  steadily 
concentrated  energy,  perseverance  and  patience  it  pro- 
claims the  genius.  Rational  minds  now  discard  all 
sentiment  regarding  a  ready  acceptance  of  the  mys- 
tical phrases  —  "  divine  gift  from  Above,"  and  "  in- 
spiration from  Heaven."  These  beliefs  have  long 
stayed  true  greatness  from  a  just  appreciation,  and 
too  often  dethroned  its  solid  majesty  to  lightly  place 
thereon  instead  the  blustering  actions  of  ill-applauded, 
dazzling  pretence. 

Art  accomplishment  (and  I  believe  every  kind  of 
workmanship)  is  the  reducing  to  some  use  by  a  fit- 
tingly regulated  physical  medium  an  imaged  pur- 
pose of  the  consciousness;  each  receiving  its  realiza- 
tion through  the  mind's  activity.  That  purpose  may 
have  been  conceived  for  good  or  for  evil.  The  quality 


— 7— 

of  importance  assumed  by  the  thing  so  developed 
depends  upon  the  degree  of  energy  exercised  by  the 
force  employed  to  finally  materialize  the  imaged  orig- 
inal; that  force  is  —  the  mind,  the  power  speeding 
the  inner  and  outer  functions  to  the  consummation 
of  the  former's  conception  and  the  latter's  workman- 
ship. In  proportion  to  its  native  soundness  will  this 
original  conception,  if  properly  developed,  be  felt  in 
its  ultimate  beneficence.  And  the  reverse  may  be 
said  if  its  origin  is  malicious.  Neither  the  force  of 
physical  energy  nor  the  purpose  of  the  soul  can 
develop  clear  through  a  sordid  mind.  There  is  as 
much  opportunity  for  immorality  in  art  as  in  any- 
thing else,  if  the  mind  directs  the  way. 

Mentality  commands  art  as  it  does  every  high 
motived  trait  of  human  endeavor.  The  •  only  differ- 
ence is  in  the  medium  to  be  used  to  effect  their  high- 
est development.  Some  impulsive  desire  frets  rest- 
lessly in  every  soul  waiting  to  burst  into  some  sphere 
of  activity.  It  often  unrestrainedly  obeys  such  im- 
pulse, and  then,  like  an  illy  regulated  electric  current, 
not  only  mars  the  controlling  mediums  meant  to 
check  such  impulsiveness,  but  also  irretrievably  dis- 
sipates the  force  itself.  Unrestrained,  impulsive  dra- 
matic instincts  (fretful  desires  for  histrionic  display) 
should,  before  allowed  to  act,  find  ready  a  well  regu- 
lated medium  to  guard  against  any  tendency  towards 
an  impetuous,  exaggerated,  and  over-emphasized 
essayal  in  the  dangerous  freedom  of  their  crude  ori- 
gin—  apparatuses  dispensing  to  the  best  purposes 
the  power  they  control.  To  try  to  handle  the  vital 
electric  fluid  with  one's  bare  hands  is  dangerous.  So 
it  is  to  think  of  manipulating  the  indefinable  source 
of  dramatic  instinct  without  effecting  regulators  to 
distribute  it. 


To  apply  rules  which  shall  specially  (or  generally) 
govern  physical  manifestations  of  emotions  and  pas- 
sions, such  as  —  agony,  exasperation,  joy,  sorrow, 
courage,  fear,  rage,  suspicion,  love,  reflection,  mod- 
esty, shame,  respect,  veneration,  malice,  scorn,  sur- 
prise, horror,  defiance,  grief,  convulsiveness,  laughter, 
despair,  melancholy,  terror,  wonder,  contempt,  hate, 
adoration,  imbecility,  death,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  —  is  as  im- 
practicable and  damaging  to  the  highest  possibilities 
of  dramatic  expression  as  would  be  the  application 
of  set  rules  to  the  free  development  of  the  innumer- 
able combinations  of  musical  harmonies  so  irrevo- 
cably necessary  to  the  loftiest  attainment  of  music 
sound  expression.  It  is  in  the  existence  of  this  un- 
restrained condition  in  which  the  unlimited  variations, 
combinations  and  possibilities  of  expressions  are  left 
open  to  the  mentally  controlled  imagination  (with  its 
afforded  inspiration,  if  you  wish)  of  the  actor,  that 
the  vital  strength  and  endurance  of  his  art  lives  and 
thrives.  It  is  in  the  highest  understanding,  devel- 
opment and  perfection  of  the  medium  of  this  ex- 
pression that  must  give  the  intellectual,  graceful  and 
effective  finish  to  any  art  expression.  All  differences 
of  mediums  have  one  common  fundament  —  mental- 
ity! It  is  in  a  correct  settlement  of  such  fundament, 
and  a  proper  progression  and  development,  through 
a  sustained  systematic  application  of  it,  to  an  approxi- 
mate state  of  finish,  that  qualifies  one  to  a  justifiable 
practice  of  that  art  as  a  profession.  The  elevation 
of  the  stage,  at  the  present  hour,  is  a  simple  fact 
of  organization,  and  —  a  significant  qualification.  To 
guarantee  a  general  condition  of  stability  and  con- 
fidence, such  qualification  should  be  attendant  on  the 
broad  opportunities  of  preceptorial  higher  education. 


—9— 

The  mere  sense  of  expression  (or  poetic  feeling) 
never  vivified  marble  nor  canvas.  A  skilful  and  ar- 
tistic knowledge  of  a  proper  use  of  the  instruments 
to  be  employed  in  the  manifestation  of  expression  (or 
poetic  feeling)  must  be  acquired  before  it  can  be 
possible  to  beautifully  reveal  any  sense  of  expression. 
This  should  apply  to  the  art  of  acting  as  well.  The 
fact  that  in  acting  the  likeness  is  revealed,  not  through 
inanimate  substance,  but  animate  being,  promotes  and 
encourages  the  belief  that  acting  cannot  be  equally 
classified  with  the  other  fine  arts,  and  that  its  expo- 
sition is  almost  wholly  a  matter  of  untrained  natural 
endowments,  into  which  must  become  immerged  the 
character  to  be  portrayed,  instead  of  a  highly  culti- 
vated state  of  the  medium  of  expression,  the  human 
body,  made  ready  and  fit  to  adapt  itself  to  all  modes 
and  forms  of  expression,  and  concealing  by  this  art 
its  very  self  in  the  character  type  portrayed.  Thus 
we  find  a  general  misapplication  of  the  instrument  of 
expression  in  acting,  and  the  realms  of  art  usurped 
by  the  personality,  whims  and  caprices  of  the  actor. 

Criticism  on  acting  is  largely  given  from  the  view- 
point of  the  mere  observed  effect,  and  not  from  any 
special  knowledge  of  particular  insight  into  techni- 
calities governing  the  medium  or  instrument  of  ex- 
pression. Therefore  actors  having  parts  fitting  them 
well,  and  blessed  with  personal  charms,  mannerisms 
and  peculiarities  readily  adaptable  to  such  parts,  if 
they  can  but  maintain  a  proper  degree  of  self  control 
and  be  natural,  that  is,  play  themselves,  their  success 
immediately  therein  is  assured.  But  set  them  to  the 
task  of  creating  types,  or  essaying  to  attain  proficiency 
in  superior  types  of  nobility  and  eloquent  grandeur, 
they  conspicuously  fail.  Here  even  the  invaluable 


—10— 

and  seldom  accredited  assistance  of  the  genuine  art 
of  wig  maker  and  costumer  cannot  poultice  the  form 
into  histrionic  healthiness.  To  be  endowed  by  nature 
with  rare  personal  charms,  exceptional  voice,  and 
graceful  bearing  is  unquestionably  of  undisputed 
value,  but  of  no  permanent  worth  if  not  regulated 
and  skilfully  applied  through  an  intelligent  cultiva- 
tion of  the  instruments  which  manifest  these  qual- 
ities. 

But  it  is  not  necessary  to  know  our  organism  to 
understand  and  exhibit  our  art.  Technical  training 
in  art  is  not  to  give  freedom  to  the  soul  that  it  may 
properly  manifest  its  workings;  it  is  to  control  that 
freedom  that  it  may  not  over  or  understate  its  mani- 
festations. Thus  it  becomes  art.  A  violin  player  need 
not  know  the  construction  of  his  violin,  his  bow,  — 
the  laws  governing  the  vibratory  causes  and  effects 
of  his  technical  skill;  mental  philosophy,  psychology, 
and  so  on;  these  are  not  necessary  to  an  effectual 
exposition  of  his  skill.  The  highest  degree  of 
philosophical  research  still  places  unlimited  possibil- 
ities ahead.  They  must,  of  course,  prove  helpful,  and 
are  sought  by  the  student  artist  after  the  essential 
fundaments  have  been  firmly  settled.  The  human 
body  is  the  actor's  instrument  of  expression.  He 
plays  upon  that.  He  should  not  enter  upon  a  stage 
career  of  serious  purpose  without  the  possession  of 
a  properly  attuned  instrument  capable  of  adequately 
responding  to  the  skill  of  the  trained  performer.  No 
self-respecting  instrumentalist  would  deign  to  engage 
in  an  exhibition  of  his  skill  unless  in  the  possession 
of  a  fitly  made  instrument  capable  of  displaying  his 
highest  technical  skill  at  least,  and  permitting  at  the 
same  time  of  the  most  exalted  manifestations  of  vari- 


—li- 
able expression  in  that  degree  to  which  his  mentally 
controlled  imagination,  emotional  power,  and  such 
qualities  may  lead  him.  No  untrained  person  should 
be  allowed  to  go  upon  the  stage !  It  is  not  so  held  in 
America  today.  The  actor's  vocation  is  never  a  pro- 
fession,— it  is  not  often  a  business,  although  beset  as 
such ;  it  is  not  even  a  livelihood.  The  actor  of  today 
is,  in  general  self-evinced  proclivities,  a  vagrant,  petty 
speculator.  But  he  owes  much  of  this  depravity  to 
the  unmitigated  indifference  of  the  dominant  manager 
of  today  to  any  just  regard  of  his  true  mission  in  the 
conduction  of  his  trade. 

It  is  true  that  there  have  been  flashed  upon  the 
world  at  times  untutored  great  histrionic  personages, 
some  possessing  startling  physical  and  vocal  deformi- 
ties, eccentricities  and  woful  mannerisms.  Such  ones 
will  always  find  a  place  independent  of  any  condition 
or  regulation  governing  the  special  sphere  in  which 
they  shine.  But  even  with  such  the  time  came  when 
they  were  obliged  to  possess  acknowledged  control- 
ment  of  the  causes  and  effects  of  their  unregulated 
forces,  and  become  studious  and  learned,  duly  tem- 
pered, or  else  be  early  consumed  in  the  focus  of  their 
fiery  brilliancy.  To  what  tremendous  grandeur  of 
enduring  possibilities  these  quick  blossoming,  showy, 
but  soon  failing  flowers  might  have  reached  had  some 
discipline  been  early  settled  and  rightly  directed,  to  be 
later  developed  by  the  individual  greatness  through 
studiousness  and  concentrated  energy!  This  may 
seem  mere  speculation  to  many,  but  to  any  thoughtful 
person,  such  an  advantage  (to  the  one  seriously 
inclined,  devotedly  attached,  and  ambitiously  moved) 
must  be  seen  to  be  of  untold  benefit  and  lasting 
endurance. 


—12— 

America  today  is  leading  in  the  importance  of 
world  affairs.  It  is  supplying  all  walks  of  life  with 
strong  personages.  It  is  providing  prodigious  means 
for  educational  help  in  all  these  walks.  Unlimited 
beneficence  is  being  graciously  bestowed  to  promote 
and  maintain  that  which  is  truly  worthy  of  assistance. 
The  arts  are  not  being  wholly  neglected.  The  theatre 
might  gain  securely  a  place  upon  the  list  of  these 
beneficiaries.  But  to  do  so  it  must  be  found  worthy 
in  purpose,  true  to  the  best  possible  ends  of  that  pur- 
pose, and  honestly  and  consistently  conducted  through 
some  significant  qualification! 


Number   fourteen   of   "  Stage   Affairs,"   appearing 
April  16,  1907,  concerns : 

SHAKESPEARE, 

THE    FUTURE    HIGHEST    VALUE    OF    HIS    PLAYS    TO    THE 
STAGE. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

NUMBER*  FOURTEEN  APRIL  16,  1907 


STAGE   AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


v 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O.    BOX    1341 
SINGLE    NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Previous  Issues  of  "Stage  Affairs; 


I.    The   Playwright:    The  Vital   Importance   of 

His  Commission. 
II.     The  Business  Manager:   His  True  Mission. 

III.  The  Actor:  The  Quality  of  His  Importance. 

IV.  The  Stage  Manager:   His  Decaying  Power. 
V.    The  Theatre  Orchestra:    Its    Enforced    Pro- 
trusive Obedience. 

VI.    The  Dramatic  Critic:    The  Rightful  Censor; 
but  Not  Merely  "  By  the  Courtesy  of  the 
Theatre." 
VII.    The  Vaudeville  System:   The  Morally  Illegal 

Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant  Significance. 
VIII.    The  Prevailing  Stock  System:    Its  Practices 

a  Detriment  to  Art  Aim. 

IX.    The    Star    System:    Its   Manifest   Condition 
Generally  Irrelevant  to  the   Consequence 
of  Its  True  Meaning. 
X.    The  Repertoire  System :  Many  Compensations 

for  Its  Marked  Decadency. 

XI.  The  One  Play  Combination  System:  Its  Ad- 
vantages for  Art  Accomplishment  if  Wisely 
Pursued. 

XII.    The  Dramatic  School:  Its  Futile  Results. 
XIII.    Acting:    Its  Tangibility    as    an    Art    to    be 
Studied. 


Copyright,  1907, 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today < 


—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


XIV. 
SHAKESPEARE, 

THE  FUTURE  HIGHEST  VALUE  OF  HIS  PLAYS  TO  THE 
STAGE. 

"To  hold — (as't  were) — the  mirror  up  to  na- 
ture; to  show  —  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn  her 
own  image,  and  —  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time 
his  form  and  pressure." 

This  was,  is,  and  ever  will  be,  the  essence  of  the 
teaching  that  Shakespeare  imparted  and  bequeathed 
to  the  men  and  women  of  the  stage, —  the  manager, 
the  playwright,  the  actor, —  the  co-essential  union 
which,  in  its  co-efficient,  co-harmonious  plan,  consti- 
tutes the  highest  standard  of  the  institution  of  the 
theatre. 

And  therein  lies,  moreover,  the  spirit  of  every  text 
that  has  invariably  forced  its  way  into  all  discourses 
of  any  consequence  which  have  ever  been  written  or 
spoken  concerning  the  "  art  of  acting." 

Therein  is  revealed  a  duty,  a  religion,  a  system  of 
procedure,  (you  might  call  it  a  faith,  a  worship  if  you 
wished)  for  the  beneficent  institution  of  the  theatre, 
and  to  those  devoted  men  and  women  who  would 
truthfully  send  its  mission  forth  to  the  world. 


— 2— 

Therein  exists  a  tangible  formula,  which,  when 
evolved  into  a  system,  significantly  founded,  consist- 
ently followed,  and  sincerely  reverenced,  would  truly 
establish  a  condition  of  qualification  for  the  profession 
of  the  theatre  as  beneficial,  vast  and  lasting  as  that  of 
any  other  vocation  known  to  the  world,  not  excepting 
that  of  the  church.  With  common  sense  meaning  one 
might  say  that  in  a  religious  adoption  of  such  a 
system  lay  —  the  redemption  and  salvation  of  the 
theatre.  .  jj  ;  \ 

Nearly  all  the  truly  great  achievements  in  the 
theatre  have  been  found  in  the  unition  of  this  trinity 
force  (playwright-manager-actor)  in  some  surpassing 
individuality.  In  all  which  has  been  worthiest  has 
ever  been  seen  a  continual  strife  to  gain,  through  stu- 
dious inclining  and  thoughtful  concentration,  some 
eventual  recognition  in  the  poetic  classic  drama, —  and 
most  distinctly  in  the  plays  of  Shakespeare.  If  therein 
lies  the  strength  of  all  which  has  been  best  and  endur- 
ing in  the  theatre,  it  would  seem  to  be  no  more  nor 
less  than  common  sense,  and  practicably  tangible,  to 
methodically  head  and  navigate  on  such  "  dead 
reck'ning."  The  predominant  educational  possibili- 
ties of  such  disciplinary  learning  can  not  with  truth- 
fulness be  gainsaid.  And  when  you  have  secured  a 
qualified  graduation,  a  degree,  for  such  trained 
instruction,  you  have  in  all  dignity  insured  an  unde- 
niable "  status  "  for  such  scholarly  progression,  where 
indeed  all  such  possessory  owners  may  truly  be  said 
to  enjoy,  in  equable  estimation  with  their  associates, 
the  positive  occupancy  of  a  profession. 

Shakespeare's  plays  must  not  be  lost  to  the  sight  of 
the  actor.  In  the  steady  re-adaptation  to  which  they 
are  constantly  being  put  to  fit  them  more  congruously 
to  the  advanced  appliances  and  methods  of  these 


—3— 

palmy  days  of  highly  progressed  mechanism  and 
painters'  art,  we  are  in  eventual  fearful  danger  of  such 
a  compromising  condition.  Today  in  America,  the 
actor  (generally  speaking)  has  little  learned  knowl- 
edge of  the  glossy  ruggedness,  inspiring  awfulness, 
and  immutable  beauties  of  the  original  designs  of  this 
Himalayan  Histrionic  Supremacy.  It  is  as  though 
the  clergyman  were  accorded  his  ordination  totally 
unlearned  in  the  manifold  blessings,  and  o'er-towering 
sovereignty  of  the  Bible.  The  actor  owns  scarcely 
more  than  a  fleeting  retention  of  the  few  lines  he  is 
compelled  to  speak  in  a  passing  presentation  of  some 
one  of  the  "  specially "  prepared  versions  of  this 
poetic-drama  chain  of  unsevered  links,  which  must 
ever,  in  imperishable  grandeur,  hold  together  the  insti- 
tution of  the  theatre. 

The  Shakespeare  religion  of  yesterday  is  still  the 
religion  of  the  future.  It  must  not  be  understood 
that  I  would  assertively  exalt  the  theatre  above  the 
Church;  no  indeed.  It  is  in  the  most  perfect  allied 
condition  of  the  home,  the  school,  and  the  Church 
that  their  consummate  unition — the  State — must  find 
its  trust  grandeur.  And  we  see  here,  in  the  co-essen- 
tial parts  of  this  trinity,  the  predominant,  vital  im- 
portance of  its  mental  centre — education.  It  is  through 
the  highest  power  of  education  that  the  greatest 
national  welfare  has  ever  existed.  The  home  (the 
physical  charge)  and  the  Church  (the  moral  care) 
equip  through  co-efficient,  co-harmonious  alliance 
with  the  school  (the  mental  activity  essential  to  the 
highest  understanding  of  body  and  soul)  the  medium 
of  the  State's  achievements  —  intellectual  and  sound 
men  and  women.  Every  vocation,  art  and  trade  should 
be  an  embodiment  of  this  trinity.  And  as  each  hon- 
estly strove  for  exaltedness  and  supremacy,  so  should 


it  be  equally  regarded  and  rewarded  in  its  special 
beneficence  to  that  consummated  unition  —  the  State. 
And  to  that  extent  that  each  might  dishonestly  and 
viciously  maintain  its  practices,  just  to  that  extent 
should  it  be  equally  condemned  and  punished. 

In  every  lasting  beneficence  to  a  nation  or  to  man- 
kind, we  see  the  single  force  of  some  great  leadership. 
Christ  lived  in  the  time  of  atheism  and  hypocritical 
formalism.  It  is  illogical  to  bring  every  letter  of 
his  then  well-timed,  needed  teachings  into  this  en- 
lightened age.  The  evolution  of  their  then  prophetic 
significance  has  brought  their  spiritual  beneficence 
now  to  us  here  on  earth.  But  the  idealism  of  the  man 
grows  more  o'ertowering  as  the  ages  appear.  The 
spirit  of  his  leadership  defies  the  doubt  of  thoughtful 
man.  The  emulation  of  his  indestructible  singleness 
is  still  the  immovable  staff  which  shall  ever  command 
the  immortal  grasp  of  the  Church.  But  we  also  con- 
fess a  leadership  in  other  men.  Two  centuries  and 
a  quarter  after  the  death  of  Confucius  his  works  were 
burned  and  hundreds  of  his  believers  buried  alive. 
But  the  leadership  of  the  man  is  paramount  today. 
Caesar  —  "  the  foremost  man  of  all  this  world  "  — 
"  the  noblest  man  that  ever  lived  in  the  tide  of  times  " 
(murdered  by  the  innocence  of  his  nobility)  will  ever 
be  heard  through  his  leadership  in  a  literary  purity 
of  a  fundamental  language,  as  unshaken  today  as  ever 
by  the  dissoluble  qualities  of  national  motherhood. 

Shakespeare  is  such  as  these.  No  vain  supremacy 
of  facetious  pomposity  can  ever  obliterate  the  lustre 
of  his  immortal  leadership.  What  rational  mind  can 
deny  the  predominance  of  the  English  tongue  today? 
What  reputable  speech  cannot  pronounce  its  paragon ! 
What  massed  endangerments  of  gibberish  "  isms " 
(unstayed  by  the  timidity  of  changing  politics,  selfish 


— 5— 


r«€ 

?3/l 

. 


ambitions,  and  legislative  corruption)  can  ever,  in 
their  gathering  gloom,  obscure  the  brightness  of  this 
solitary  leadership  ?  Why,  then,  longer  lend  the  slight- 
est aid  to  the  ill-weaponed  assailants  of  such  an 
uncensurable  fortress,  who  strive  to  bury  in  the  ashes 
of  ill-burned  pages  such  fadeless  perennity?  Throw 
wider  open  this  vault  of  histrionic  completeness.  It 
shall  vindicate  us! 

In  a  researchful  study  of  the  works  of  Shakespeare 
we  may  claim  an  ownership  to  a  rather  concise  text- 
book of  the  history  and  best  uses  of  our  modern  lan- 
guage. He  who  so  wills  may  hold  the  front  door 
key  to  the  house  of  sufficient  knowledge ;  a  possession 
which,  if  used,  and  the  domain  once  entered,  will  in- 
cite a  voluntary  and  eager  desire  to  ransack  the  whole 
house.  That  such  advantage  has  been  long  and  uni- 
versally accepted,  and  constantly  increases  in  interest 
to  all  thoughtful  and  educated  people  is,  beyond  all 
doubt,  most  true.  Although  I  offer  no  positive  sta- 
tistics to  verify  the  following  statement  (I  do  not 
believe  it  to  be  necessary),  yet,  from  my  intimate 
acquaintance  with  every  condition  of  stage  folk,  and 
my  critical  observance  of  the  better  class  of  theatre 
goers,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that,  from  both  an 
educational  point  of  view  and  as  a  divertisement,  this 
enjoyable  practical  text-book  of  our  language  finds 
by  far  greater  odds  more  reverence,  devotion,  and  un- 
derstandment  from  the  people  who  view  the  stage 
than  from  those  being  viewed,  generally  speaking. 
Such  a  condition  is  diametrically  wrong. 

Shakespeare  was  originally  and  distinctly  of  and 
for  the  theatre.  In  the  presentation  alone  of  his 
plays  still  offering  a  measure  of  adaptability  to 
present-day  stage  appointments,  how  can  he  command 
proper  attention  when  the  medium  through  which  he 


is  interpreted  underrates  in  comprehension  the  gen- 
eral understanding  of  the  auditors  to  whom  this 
medium  labors  to  reveal  the  depths  and  grandeur  of 
the  poet's  tremendousness  ?  To  say  that  the  educa- 
tional importance  of  these  plays  bears  no  kin  to  the 
highest  development  of  their  dramatic  possibilities, 
that  is,  that  an  actor  need  not  become  a  Shakespearian 
student  to  be  enabled  to  forcibly  delineate  the  person- 
ages of  these  marvellous  works,  bears  much  truth,  it 
is  true.  The  inerasable  nobility  and  lasting  perma- 
nency of  their  diction  affords  even  mediocre  inherent 
dramatic  ability  a  vast  scope  for  theatrical  display. 
But  it  is  that  very  potency  of  the  predominance  of 
the  poet's  diction  that  exalts  the  player,  and  by  self- 
satisfaction  of  that  exaltedness,  too  often  fills  him 
with  a  sense  of  proficiency  which  robs  him  of  the 
thought  of  any  necessity  to  better  understand  (that 
in  such  higher  knowledge  he  may  the  better  and  more 
powerfully  interpret)  the  great  themes  and  varia- 
tions of  this  genius  composer.  And  thereby  (and  of 
far  more  importance)  immeasurably  add  to  his  qual- 
ification for  the  art  he  possesses.  The  actor  pauses 
at  that  point  where  his  natural  aptness  finds  a  ready 
applicability.  There  is  where  he  should  begin. 

If  in  a  research  of  the  works  of  Shakespeare  we 
see  a  text-book  of  educational  value,  we  furthermore 
see  in  these  dramatic  inspirations,  ranging  as  they 
do  from  the  simplest  language  to  the  sublimest  flights 
of  dramaturgy,  and  encompassing  every  mood  and 
manner  of  possible  expression,  text-books  for  play- 
writer  and  actor,  if  regulated  into  practical,  prepara- 
tory and  progressive  systems  of  instruction.  The 
adoption  of  such  (prefaced  with  elementary  training 
in  the  fundaments  of  play  writing  and  acting), 
coupled  with  a  compulsory  discipline  in  its  accom- 


—7— 

panying  educational  research  (a  vital  importance), 
does  not  seem  beneath  the  highest  ratification  of  our 
institutions  of  learning,  in  a  collegiate  course,  grad- 
uating its  students,  after  proper  qualification,  into 
some  established  medium  of  activity  maintained  (at 
least  at  first)  by  endowment  and  legacy,  and  furnish- 
ing to  the  incumbent  the  status  necessary  to  insure  a 
dignity  and  following  that  such  a  calling  is  worthy  of. 

The  works  of  Shakespeare  cannot  remain  forever 
available  to  dramatic  representation.  I  believe  for 
centuries  yet  they  may  still  be  played.  But  they  are 
a  legacy  to  the  stage  as  great  and  imperishable  as  any 
bequeathed  to  this  world.  They  are  the  exaltation 
of  the  stage.  It  has  never  known  a  true  condition  of 
stability,  a  hope  of  permanency,  or  a  continuancy  of 
unshakable  grandeur.  Here,  exemplifying  the  inmost 
nobility  of  all  that  ever  entered,  trod,  and  transcended 
the  stage  and  drama,  lies  dormant,  through  a  lack  of 
right  devotion  and  highest  use,  the  redemption,  salva- 
tion, and  indissoluble  perpetuity  of  the  theatre! 

The  day  will  sometime  come  when  mere  controversy 
regarding  the  possibility  or  audacity  of  rightfully  or 
falsifiably  imprinting  some  appellative  usurpation  to 
the  images  of  his  creating  must  cease,  worn  away  by 
the  bristling  opposition  that  its  friction  aroused.  That 
critical  analysis  and  discussion  of  these  plays  has 
always  been,  and  must  ever  go  on,  is  the  vital  exist- 
ence of  their  educational  worth.  Here  the  research 
must  be  deep.  We  must  seek  to  restore,  theorize,  and 
speculate.  But  their  fanciful  beauties  must  not  become 
marred  nor  lost  in  critical  exaction.  We  should  not 
forget  that  we  are  working  in  the  visionary  realms 
of  the  theatre.  And  to  that  extreme  in  which  we 
indulge  our  desire  for  educational  advantages,  just 
to  that  opposite  end  must  we  seek  to  expurgate, 


eliminate,  and  regulate  these  dramas  to  modern  uses 
in  presentation ;  to  make  them,  in  preservation  of 
theme  and  individual  characterization,  suitable,  adapt- 
able, and  entertaining  to  present-day  expectancy.  It 
would  be  folly  to  run  the  stage  coach  of  Colonial 
times  in  the  grooves  of  the  roadbeds  of  the  advanced 
railway  systems  of  today.  But  I  doubt  if  the'  stuff 
now  so  conveyed  has  grown  approximately  better  by 
the  superior  methods  of  such  ultraism. 

I  believe  if  the  great  playwright  himself  could 
appear  among  us  today,  he  would  rearrange  his  lus- 
trous jewels  in  the  most  beautiful  and  effective  set- 
tings that  modern  stagecraft  would  permit  of.  To 
present  his  plays  now  as  they  were  supposed  to  have 
been  performed  in  his  day  is  a  mere  curiosity,  val- 
uable principally  in  the  immediate  circle  of  educational 
importance.  It  would  be  like  advertising  some  great 
virtuoso  to  play  the  "  Moonlight  "  sonata  on  an  in- 
strument in  vogue  in  its  incomparable  composer's 
time,  dressed  in  the  fashion  of  the  day.  Or  even 
more  so.  It  would  be  a  curiosity  at  most.  If  the 
theme  and  diction  of  these  great  masters  be  kept 
intact,  it  is  no  sacrilege  or  iconoclasm  to  emphasize 
the  variegated  colors  of  the  robes  that  clothe  them. 
But  it  must  be  done  by  those  whose  intellectual  grasp 
and  taste  would  sympathetically  most  qualify  for  such 
a  task.  Those  who  have  become  studiously  and  de- 
votedly imbued  with  the  spirit  through  the  happy 
discipline  of  such  qualification. 

I  do  not  maintain  that  a  required  qualification  as 
previously  herein  outlined  would  ensure  Shakespear- 
ian playwrights  and  actors,  great  men  and  women. 
The  appearance  from  period  to  period  of  an  array 
of  great  actors  does  not  signify  any  special  conse- 
quence to  the  stage,  and,  it  is  proved,  does  not 


n 

guarantee  any  subsequent  general  progressed  condi- 
tion arising  from  their  resplendent  brief  hour  in  the 
theatre.  But,  nevertheless,  not  one  English  speaking 
actor  of  any  worthy  individual  distinction  in  the 
higher  drama  has  ever  denied  an  indebtedness  to  his 
devotion  and  study  of  Shakespeare  for  the  degree 
of  distinction  to  which  he  had  risen.  Absolute  sat- 
isfaction through  critical  and  public  acceptance  in  the 
great  roles  of  the  dramatist  may  not  have  been  his, 
but  it  was  in  the  strife  to  attain  that  estimation  in 
the  Shakespeare  drama  that  made  him  pre-eminently 
fitted  to  adorn  and  honor  the  stage  and  himself  in 
special  parts,  for  the  best  interpretation  of  which  he 
had  applied  the  results  of  his  persistent  struggle  to 
o'ertop  his  gained  supremacy  by  attention  and  favor 
in  the  essayal  of  some  few  of  the  classic  roles.  That 
is  the  test  of  any  actor's  genuine  success  or  great- 
ness. In  the  annals  of  the  stage  of  this  hour,  in 
recording  the  event  of  a  truly  deserved  jubilee  to 
an  actress  of  unique  superiority,  it  will  be  written 
that,  in  responding  to  her  heartfelt  gratitude  for  the 
loving  honor  paid  to  her  devoted  public  service,  this 
actress  in  a  speech  of  telling  briefness  confessed  that 
she  owed  everything  to  her  training  and  education 
in  Shakespeare.  It  is  this  spirit  of  duty,  reverence 
and  adherence,  ingrafted  at  the  inception  of  a  stage 
career,  that  bears  its  golden  fruits  most  abundantly. 
And  it  must  be  by  a  practical,  systematic,  compulsory 
discipline  in  Shakespeare,  through  educational  chan- 
nels, that  we  shall  see  the  stage  truly  exalted;  that 
we  shall  attain  in  substantial,  respected  fact  —  a 
"  profession  of  the  theatre."  How  can  any  boast  of 
the  stage  to  an  equality  with  other  high  vocations, 
a  comparative  importance  with  the  Church  in  a 
beneficence  to  mankind,  hold  proper  credence,  when 


—10-- 
there  is  no  fixed  qualification  for  admittance  to  its 
practices,  and  its  encumbents  are  readily  recruited 
from  the  ranks  of  ignorance,  pretence  and  charlatanry, 
and  with  like  indiscretion  stubbornly  maintained  by 
the  vulgar  agent  who  instated  them? 

Today  in  our  large  universities,  departments  of 
dramatic  literature  and  oratory  appear  almost  essen- 
tial to  a  most  complete  system  of  higher  education. 
And  yet  it  cannot  be  truthfully  said  that  these  auxil- 
iary needs  find  an  outlet,  a  medium  of  positive 
significance  for  any  future  design  of  active  perma- 
nency for  those  who  may  have  taken  advantage  of 
them.  But  that  is  not  to  gainsay  their  natural  value 
in  such  wise  and  general  usage  of  them.  But  in  such 
an  acknowledged  intrinsical  initiative,  what  could  we 
not  with  positive  reasonableness  see  (in  such  a  healthy 
stimulus)  for  the  nucleus  of  a  trial  at  least  (I  am 
tempted  to  say  an  educational  duty)  in  the  matter 
of  a  department  of  the  theatre  in  leading  universities  ? 
I  do  not  like  to  say  drama.  It  is  too  limitable.  It  is 
time  that  the  theatre  began  to  command  its  true 
dignity  and  potency! 

Who  can  deny  that  embodied  in  the  works  of  the 
great  personage  who  most  singularly  with  distinct 
individualism  marked  the  highest  exaltedness  of  the 
theatre,  who  vitalized  it  into  imperishable  grandeur,  — 
who  can  gainsay  that  in  the  illitigatable  legacy  of  this 
simple  man,  who,  as  playwright-actor-manager,  in 
that  unity  proclaiming  the  immortality  of  the  con- 
summation of  such  unition,  the  theatre,  —  who  can 
deny  in  such  a  spirit  of  endless  endurance  the  exist- 
ence of  a  formula  to  create  a  criterion  of  study,  qual- 
ification and  criticism,  attainable  through  a  compul- 
sory disciplinary  system  of  procedure?  Therein  we 
see  a  duty,  a  faith,  —  an  affection  for  the  vocation. 


—11— 

Therein  we  find  a  high  end  to  our  worthy  means ; 
no  questionable  means  to  our  selfish  ends.  And 
therein  we  glorify  the  institution  that  our  duty,  faith 
and  affection  urges  us  to  labor  for.  We  are  not 
entering  it  unprepared,  unconcerned  and  unmeritedly, 
with  feverish  speculativeness,  fretting  it  may  over- 
look our  glorification.  Then  the  men  and  women  of 
the  stage  find  some  equality  of  condition.  There  is 
some  sense  of  true  equity  through  this  equal  oppor- 
tunity of  qualification.  Here  we  find  a  status  for  the 
profession  of  the  theatre.  The  playwright,  the  man- 
ager, the  actor,  ascend  the  rostrum  with  the  same 
gained  privilege  as  the  clergyman  his  pulpit.  The 
mere  sock  and  buskin  no  longer  proclaim  the 
actor.  The  man  has  earned  their  significance,  as  the 
priest  his  cloth,  and  both  should  wear  them  sacred 
to  the  temple  they  adorn.  The  stage  needs  this  con- 
ditional status  as  much  as  does  the  Church. 

The  playwright-manager-actor,  the  theatre  —  must 
know  this  status,  must  obey  this  qualification, 
must  reverence  their  high  significance.  In  the  sym- 
pathy and  co-operation  of  such  lies  the  unshaken 
grandeur  of  their  temple.  And  those  who  accept 
such  a  call  must  not  think  that  their  mission  to  the 
world  is  more  or  less  than  that  of  any  vocation  that 
strives  honestly  and  ideally  to  uplift  the  State,  and 
so  invoke  its  authoritative  guardianship.  But  do  not 
think  that  the  rostrum  of  the  theatre  might  not 
transcend  the  pulpit,  if  you  will  it  so.  Do  not  feel, 
when  within  its  environments,  that  unrestraint  which 
may  loose  your  sense  of  ideality.  The  theatre  must 
ever  simulate.  The  Church  is  real.  There  nature 
shall  be  preached.  The  theatre  holds  as  broad  a 
beneficence  to  those  who  will  hold  its  aim  as  high. 
The  playwright-manager-actor  must  all  be  felt  in  the 


—12— 

idealism  of  the  task.  As  great  a  battle  may  be  lived 
and  fought  for  individual  supremacy  as  that  inspired 
by  the  solitude  of  the  pulpit.  As  honest  a  laurel 
awaits  the  victory.  But  we  must  maintain  a  fitting 
medium  through  which  to  consummate  our  qualifica- 
tion. 

Unshaken  by  the  test  of  time,  unassailable  by  the 
taunts  of  mortal  cunning,  the  significant  imperish- 
ableness  of  Shakespeare's  leadership  points  the  way 
to  lasting  grandeur  and  indissoluble  exaltedness  of 
the  lofty  design  that  such  supreme  immortality  ever 
commands.  To  cast  aside  all  skepticism  and  trum- 
pery attack,  and  —  with  a  firm  belief  —  to  enlist 
under  the  sovereign  laureateship  of  such  absolute 
supremacy,  and  march  to  knowledged  victory  through 
a  confidence  in  that  belief,  is  the  religion  that  shall 
lastingly  preserve  the  highest  purity  of  the  theatre. 
The  belief  that  waits  on  knowledge  provokes  the 
doubt  that  loses  both.  Forward  —  march! 


Number   fifteen   of    "  Stage    Affairs,"    appearing 
April  23,  1907,  concerns: 

THE   NEW   THEATRE. 

A    SUGGESTION    REGARDING   THE    PERMANENT    EXALTED- 
NESS   OF  THE   STAGE. 


A  series  of  fifteen  pamphlets  issued  weekly  on  Tuesdays 
from  January  15  to  April  23,  inclusive 

_ _  _        ,      ^      .. 

NUMBER  FIFTEEN  APRIL  23,  1907 


STAGE   AFFAIRS 


IN  AMERICA 


TODAY 


BY 

ALLEN    DAVENPORT 


BOSTON,    MASSACHUSETTS 

P.    O,    BOX    1341 
SINGLE    NUMBERS    TEN    CENTS 


Complete  Issues  of  '*Stage  Affairs/' 


I.     The   Playwright:    The   Vital   Importance   of 

His  Commission. 
II.     The  Business  Manager :    His  True  Mission. 

III.  The  Actor:  The  Quality  of  His  Importance. 

IV.  The  Stage  Manager:   His  Decaying  Power. 
V.     The  Theatre  Orchestra:    Its    Enforced    Pro- 
trusive Obedience. 

VI.     The  Dramatic  Critic:    The  Rightful  Censor; 
but  Not  Merely  "  By  the  Courtesy  of  the 
Theatre." 
VII.     The  Vaudeville  System:    The  Morally  Illegal 

Abuse  of  Its  True  Meant  Significance. 
VIII.     The  Prevailing  Stock  System:    Its  Practices 

a  Detriment  to  Art  Aim. 

IX.     The    Star    System:     Its   Manifest   Condition 
Generally   Irrelevant   to  the   Consequence 
of  Its  True  Meaning. 
X.    The  Repertoire  System :   Many  Compensations 

for  Its  Marked  Decadency. 

XI.     The  One  Play  Combination  System :    Its  Ad- 
vantages for  Art  Accomplishment  if  Wisely 
Pursued. 
XII.     The  Dramatic  School :   Its  Futile  Results. 

XIII.  Acting:    Its  Tangibility    as    an    Art    to    be 

Studied. 

XIV.  Shakespeare  :  The  Future  Highest  Value  of 

His  Plays  to  the  Stage. 

XV.     The  New  Theatre:    A  Suggestion  Regarding 
the  Permanent  Exaltedness  of  the  Stage. 


Copyright,  1907, 
By  ALLEN  DAVENPORT. 


Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today* 


—BY- 
ALLEN    DAVENPORT. 


XV. 
THE   NEW   THEATRE. 

A    SUGGESTION    REGARDING    THE    PERMANENT    EXALTED- 
NESS  OF  THE  STAGE. 

The  establishment  and  stable  maintenance  of  a 
national  or  municipal  theatre  in  this  country  is  un- 
reasonable to  suppose.  Existing  political  conditions 
do  not  permit  of  the  conduction  of  either  for  the  best 
desired  purposes  of  the  drama.  We  must  look  to  the 
endowed  theatre.  But  of  what  avail  is  such  a  thea- 
tre to  the  future  of  the  stage  if  there  is  no  condition 
of  qualified  substantiality  required  to  enter,  promote 
and  maintain  it?  The  endowed  theatre  then  stands 
for  no  more  than  any  other  kind. 

A  theatre  under  endowment  should  be  a  dramatic 
art  institute  with  a  standard  of  approximate  highest 
attainment,  by  means  of  which  to  encourage,  advance, 
and  uphold  the  best  designs  of  its  workmanship  ;  and 
upon  which  to  base  criticism,  stimulate  taste,  create 
discriminate  judgment,  and  so  advance  amicable  dis- 
cussion with  tendency  to  harmonize  opinions  on  stage 
representations.  This  theatre  of  dramatic  art  should, 


2 

at  all  times,  through  its  official  independence  to  fur- 
nish suitable  entertainment,  beneficially  persuade, 
amuse,  and  instruct.  It  should  indeed,  "  Show  — 
virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn  her  own  image,  and  — 
the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time  his  form  and 
pressure."  Such  a  theatre  should  encourage  and  pro- 
mote, in  first  importance,  any  native  productiveness 
of  qualified  worthiness.  Then,  the  testedly  valuable 
dramatic  literature  past  and  present.  These  should 
be  exhibited  in  consistent  proficient  art  form,  reflect- 
ing a  pure  native  diction  from  the  plainest  speech  to 
the  most  highly  cultivated,  from  the  commonest  dia- 
logue to  the  sublimest  poetry.  The  strong  characters 
of  all  periods  should  be  personified  therein, —  their 
customs,  virtues,  vices,  foibles,  sentiments,  etiquette, 
dress,  etc., —  sufficiently  depicting,  as  approximately 
as  mechanical  device  and  artist's  brush  will  permit, 
the  locations  and  scenes  in  which  these  characters  lived 
and  acted.  It  should  acquaint  us  with  their  history 
and  religion,  and  as  far  as  it  may  be  practical,  display 
something  of  the  arts  and  industries  produced  during 
their  time.  What  one  sees  and  hears  from  its  stage 
should  become  at  once  for  him,  a  criterion  of  what  is 
best,  proper  and  correct. 

Furthermore  this  theatre  should,  at  its  inception  at 
least,  through  its  exclusive  election  and  controlling 
agency,  permit  of  independent  managements  of  first 
class  presenting  to  the  public  that  of  the  highest  merit 
in  current  vogue  and  favor,  of  melodrama,  comedy- 
drama  and  farce.  It  should  also  entertain  such  for- 
eign matter  as  may  be  of  desired  literary  and  artistic 
value,  and  intellectual  profit.  We  could  not  too  forci- 
bly, in  the  beginning  at  least,  urge  this  condition  of 
independent  amicable  relationship  with  its  worthiest 


— 3— 

companions.  It  is  in  an  eventual  natural  conjoining 
of  such  matured  worthiness  and  increasing  healthiness, 
that  we  must  heal  the  dismembered  form  and  restore 
its  essential  symmetry. 

The  influences  exerted  and  benefits  to  be  derived 
from  endowed  theatres  should  not  be  restricted  merely 
to  any  one  locality,  theatrical  centre,  but  spread  as 
widely  as  possible  throughout  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  land.  Their  work  should  be  carried  beyond 
the  immediate  district  which  serves  as  their  home. 
They  should  extend  their  influence  over  a  circuit  of  the 
more  important  cities  about  the  centre  in  which  their 
home  theatre  is  instituted. 

The  theatre,  to  bring  its  mission  to  the  highest  ful- 
filment, must  be  wrested  from  the  lacerative  commer- 
cial lash  that  now  forces  its  art  bondage,  and  liberated 
by  the  revolutionary  installation  of  men  and  women 
who  have  studiously  and  zealously  prepared  for  the 
practice  of  their  art,  and  have  been  equably  graduated 
to  it  through  some  significant  qualification.  What  is 
truly  worthy  in  the  theatre  today  cannot  be  deposed. 
It  will  maintain  itself  by  virtue  of  its  genuineness. 
But  it  must  be  weeded  of  carrioned  parasites,  or  suffo- 
cate in  their  gathering  stench.  And  if  the  endowed 
theatre  shall  ever  stand  for  any  intrinsic  intention,  a 
new  stamen  must  be  rooted,  and  evolved  through  a 
higher  education  for  the  actor,  furnishing  a  qualifica- 
tion, and  creating  a  status  that  shall  attain  a  degree 
proclaiming  some  unquestionable  certainty  as  to  its 
holder's  privilege  to  practice  the  accrument  of  his  stu- 
dious preparation.  There  must  be  an  honored  and 
openly  respected  "  profession  of  the  theatre."  There 
must  be  a  required  high  qualification  to  practise  it, 
secured  through  an  educational  system  of  procedure 


for  playwright,  manager,  and  actor,  graduating  them 
into  a  medium  of  activity  at  once  distinct,  sympathetic, 
and  co-operate  with  the  constancy  of  their  preparation. 
I  merely  suggest  that  it  might  be  accomplished  by  a 
combined  complete  course  of  educational  import  in  the 
dramatic  literature  of  Shakespeare,  and  through  ele- 
mentary conditions  of  the  art  of  playwriting,  and  by 
progressive  studies  of  the  plays  most  adaptable  to  a 
preparatory  state  of  the  art  of  acting;  fundamental 
knowledge  of  play  building  and  dramatic  expression. 
Out  of  this  qualification  would  come  the  status  to 
dignify  the  "  profession  of  the  theatre,"  the  play- 
wright-actor-manager, the  co-essential  forces  to  work 
efficiently  and  harmoniously  to  uplift  the  institution 
their  unity  forms.  That  is  the  "  profession  of  the 
theatre." 

And  (to  quote  from  the  opening  paragraph  in  num- 
ber one  of  Stage  Affairs  in  America  Today")  "  the 
playwright  is  the  very  heart  of  this  tri-essence,  and 
should  (its  other  co-essential  factors  working  all  in 
trinitarian  confederacy)  -pulsate  into  vigorous  life 
and  health  the  substance  which  this  vital  union  shapes, 
—  the  institution  of  the  theatre."  But  we  do  not  gain- 
say the  just  importance  of  manager  and  actor.  Not- 
withstanding it  would  be  as  absurd  to  try  to  elevate 
the  theatre  through  the  offices  of  endowment  by  the 
mere  supplying  of  good  actors  and  sagacious  business 
managers,  as  it  would  be  to  attempt  to  perpetuate 
the  cause  of  music  by  solely  educating  to  a  high  degree 
its  interpreter  —  the  instrumentalist,  and  instating 
efficient  business  capacity  to  direct  him.  Of  what 
intrinsic  avail  are  they  without  a  supply  of  accom- 
plished and  worthy  composers  ?  Of  what  use  are  good 
actors  without  good  plays  to  put  them  in  ?  They  are 


—5— 

like  a  winning  crew  in  a  rotten  shell.  And  how  is  it 
possible  for  an  endowed  theatre,  directed  by  an  indi- 
vidual not  in  harmony  or  sympathy  with  the  vital 
spirit  of  its  high  intentions  or  cognizant  or  educated 
to  the  true  quality  of  the  actor's  importance,  to  prop- 
erly maintain  the  beneficence  of  its  mission?  It  could 
not  properly  so  do. 

It  would  seem  presumptuous  anticipation,  just  now, 
to  outline  any  systematic  plan  for  the  orderly  conduc- 
tion of  such  an  endowed  theatre.    It  would  take  many 
years  to  primarily  determine,  and  eventually  bring  the 
stipulated  conditions  to  a  state  of  useful  fixedness  and 
realization  of  their  just  importance.    But  I  would  like 
to  say  this  much,  that,  in  the  anticipation  of  so  feasible 
a  scheme,  and  in  such  an  expansive  country  as  ours, 
would  seem  necessary  at  first,  an  agreeably  united,  and 
quite  general  movement  in  universities,  colleges  (and 
perhaps    specially    appointed    academies    of    dramatic 
art),  throughout  the  eastern,  western  and  central  cen- 
tres of  the  country.    A  sympathetic  chain.    The  matter 
of  endowed  theatres  in  which  to  engage  such  qualifica- 
tion   could    progress    as    the    preparatory    condition 
seemed  to  rationally  warrant.     These  theatres  should 
be  under  the  control  of  a  learned  board  of  direction  ; 
to  independently  make  its  special  appointments  of  play- 
wright, manager  and  actor  to  its  individual  control- 
ment,    but    sympathetically    in    general    purpose    and 
result.     But  the  duties  and  authorities  of  playwright, 
actor  and  manager  should  be  clearly  stipulated  and 
duly  respected,  and  not  to  be  interfered  with  by  such 
board  of  direction,  except  in  the  event  of  some  mis- 
demeanor, laxity,  or  inefficiency  of  office.    Then  such 
board  of  direction  assumes  the  authority  to  dismiss  or 
regulate  such  disorder.     And  the  separate  offices  of 


playwright,  actor,  and  manager  should  know  some  de- 
termined distinction  and  individual  duty  which  should 
be  rigidly  adhered  to  in  harmonious  and  sympathetic 
workmanship,  and,  between  themselves,  signally  and 
equally  understood  and  respected.  In  case  of  inevit- 
able disputes  that  ever  arise  from  time  to  time  in  asso- 
ciations of  all  arts  and  trades,  this  board  of  direction 
again  assumes  the  position  of  authority  and  seeks  to 
regulate  such  unavoidable  differences. 

All  these  departmental  conditions  should  be  em- 
bodied originally  in  a  single  bond  of  organisation  gov- 
erning all  theatres  under  such  endowments,  and 
receiving  the  same  specified  graduation  of  this  equable 
qualification. 

Endowed  theatres  of  permanent  abode,  having  reg- 
ularly instated  companies,  should  importantly  main- 
tain a  playwright.  More  than  one  if  so  wished.  The 
playwright  should  be  under  no  undue  constraint  to 
furnish  plays  for  these  theatres,  but  of  course  there 
should  be  some  compulsory  determination  to  the  task. 
While  employed  in  translations,  adaptations,  revisions, 
etc.,  he  should  find  opportunity,  freed  from  all  pecuni- 
ary worry,  to  properly  engage  in  the  enjoyment  of 
original  composition.  In  the  production  of  such  he 
should  receive  just  consideration,  assistance  and  pro- 
tection from  the  theatre  engaging  him,  and  be 
allowed  the  unrestrained  privilege  of  privately  con- 
trolling, and  elsewhere  universally  exhibiting,  his 
workmanship  should  it  prove  worthy  of  such  wide 
attention.  But  I  believe  his  labor  belongs  first  to  that 
institution  which  harbors  him.  At  that  hour  when 
his  art  is  universally  accepted,  his  own  individualism 
must  assert  its  supremacy,  and  naturally  sever  his  bond 
of  constraint. 


—7— 

The  theatre  to  find  its  highest  ends  must  enlist  a 
condition  of  genuine  seriousness  and  consequent  re- 
spect in  a  qualified  class  of  playwright  studied  and 
learned  mostly  in  a  diction  of  sufficient  metrical  form, 
lucidity,  and  point edness  to  bespeak  a  language  intel- 
lectual, elegant  and  effectual  in  its  simple,  intermed- 
iary, and  sublime  uses.  Thereon  may  the  actor  build 
his  art.  But  that  actor  cannot  properly  so  do  unless 
he  himself  has  gained  that  same  studied  and  learned 
discipline  which  may  enable  him  equally  to  mentally 
grasp  and  expose  such  essential  predominance.  It  is 
the  vital  storage  force  which  contains  the  variety  of 
expressions  possible,  and  inspires  the  effort  to  reveal 
such.  I  do  not  gainsay  the  value  at  all  times  of  em- 
bellishing pantomime,  gesture  and  effective  "business," 
if  rationally  and  thoughtfully  employed.  They  are  the 
necessary  "  tricks  of  the  trade."  But  too  often  they 
are  used  irrelevant  to  the  significance  of  the  context, 
with  extravagant,  meaningless  purpose ;  often  nothing 
more  than  a  deceitful  condiment  to  an  unpalatable 
hash,  which  can  delude  only  the  unfastidious  taste. 
The  unmitigated  viciousness  of  many  play  builders  to 
obscure,  in  the  substitution  of  over-laden  mechani- 
cal devices,  strained  situations,  and  effective ( ?) 
"  business,"  their  total  inefficiency  to  write  decent 
compositions,  and  the  dangerous  peril  caused  by 
managers  ever  greedy  to  exhibit  them,  provokes  a 
state  of  constant  injury  to  the  theatre,  the  art  it 
should  uphold,  and  to  the  social  condition  they  have 
the  power  to  promote. 

The  theme  and  construction  of  a  play  are  the 
foundation  upon  which  it  rests.  They  afford  the  pre- 
liminary essentials  upon  which  to  build.  Their 
principal  requisites  are  form  and  regularity.  It  is 


not  difficult  to  provide  either.  In  contemplating  the 
construction  of  an  edifice  we  sometimes  appropriate 
this  form  and  regularity  directly  from  natural  sources  ; 
oftentimes  we  transplace  from  former  fundaments. 
But  what  is  the  predominant  character  that  gives  to 
this  edifice  usefulness  and  beauty?  Its  architectural 
design.  That  which  bespeaks  its  grandeur.  We 
often  take  from  natural  sources  the  theme  for  our 
play  ;  sometimes  we  transplace  from  former  funda- 
ments. The  greatest  have  ever  done  so.  We  have 
then  but  to  construct  with  a  sufficient  degree  of  regu- 
larity. But  to  raise  this  structure  to  loftiness  of 
character,  to  usefulness  and  beauty,  that  is,  if  we 
would  truly  proclaim  its  splendor,  we  must  seek  the 
studied,  varied  and  imaginative  skill  of  architectural 
design, —  the  cultivated  art  of  lofty  diction  !  Without 
this  gradiloquence,  action,  "business"  and  "effects" 
are  but  the  mere  trumperies  we  might  hang  on  our 
cellar  walls.  They  do  not  signify  the  vitality  of  the 
playwright's  workmanship. 

Few  playwrights  of  today  hold  the  dominant  type  of 
manager  in  any  special  regard  except  in  a  servile 
struggle  to  secure  a  hearing,  which,  when  once  ob- 
tained, and  a  measure  of  success  assured,  most  often 
reverses  the  conditions.  Except  in  a  few  cases  where 
the  actor  becomes  highly  necessary  for  the  furtherance 
of  pecuniary  gain,  he  commands  no  respect  and  little 
consideration  from  either  playwright  or  manager. 
And  yet  this  same  actor,  although  loudly  denouncing 
the  dictatorial  exercise  of  both  the  former,  continually 
stoops  to  the  meanest  services  to  obtain  audience  and 
favor.  And  both  playwright  and  manager  have  ar- 
rogantly transplaced  the  substantial  art  of  the  stage 
manager  by  the  whimsical  substitution  of  their  pecun- 


—9— 

iary  interest.  "It  is  my  property  which  is  at  stake," 
cry  they  out.  It  is  no  wonder  then  that  the  "high- 
salaried  paraders"  in  the  "show  business"  today  as- 
sume a  "warrantable"  attitude  of  superiority,  indiffer- 
ence, and  often  disobedience  towards  the  poor  little 
man  who  suffers  their  presumptuousness,  disrespect, 
and  commandments  while  "ringing  up"  and  "ringing 
down"  the  curtain,  and  sees  the  importance  of  his 
office  merely  in  the  type  of  the  programme  sheet, 
which  innocently  accords  him  the  post  of  "  stage  man- 
ager." 

In  a  just  organization  of  the  theatre  there  should 
be  no  falter  in  the  estimate  either  of  his  executive 
command  over  the  artists  he  directs,  or  of  their  re- 
spect and  concurrent  obedience  to  him.  The  stage 
manager  should  be  the  paragon  of  actors.  Then  the 
scenic  artist  and  musician,  the  costumer,  the  wig  mak- 
er, and  the  skilled  mechanic  shall  feel  an  honestly  ac- 
quired condition  rightfully  asserting  its  predominance, 
and  they  also  will  obey  and  respect  it.  And  these  shall 
be  worthy  of  their  hire, — the  artist  and  the  artisan. 
That  condition  of  "local  stage  manager"  in  theatres 
throughout  the  country  having  no  stationary  com- 
pany, should  be  known  by  some  such  appropriate  title 
as  "foreman." 

The  palmy  days  of  the  theatre  convey  scarcely  any 
more  meaning  than  the  passing  through  of  certain 
periods  in  the  affairs  of  the  stage  when  a  greater  num- 
ber of  distinguished  players,  "stars,"  have  flourished 
than  in  the  intervening  years.  Such  is  only  a  natural 
phenomena  peculiar  to  all  phases  of  employment.  It 
is  just  as  common  to  learned  vocations  as  to  all  others, 
but  is  seen  less  in  such  from  the  very  fact  of  that  ex- 
isting necessary  state  of  compulsory  discipline  which 


—10— 

ever  tends  towards  a  general  equalization  of  all  orig- 
inal crudeness  that  must  quite  nearly,  alike  yield  to 
the  mouldable  process  of  education.  The  theatre,  in 
the  possession  of  such  continuate  solidity,  need  no 
longer  wait  upon  the  inconstancy  of  histrionic  phe- 
nomenon for  its  exaltedness.  Equitably  qualified,  the 
actor  enters  an  organization  which  shall  respect  and 
guard  the  just  significance  of  such  equity.  If  he  be 
peculiarly  fitted  to  predominately  attract  and  shine, 
to  be  a  "star,"  he  will  there  find  his  special  preferment 
as  readily  as  does  in  his  special  sphere,  the  signally 
gifted  clergyman,  attorney,  or  physician.  There,  we 
must  confess,  each  might  feel  a  dominating  desire  for 
pecuniary  gain  in  the  pursuit  of  his  vocation,  but  he 
could  not  lay  claim  to  the  right  to  practise  that  pro- 
fession without  first  having  undergone  a  compulsory 
preparatory  discipline.  And  he  very  soon  knows  that 
he  cannot  rest  secure  alone  on  that  primary  condition, 
even  in  his  eagerness  for  ample  remuneration. 

To  call  the  theatre  a  profession  has  been  from  the 
beginning,  and  is  today,  presumptuous  vanity.  It 
never  has,  and  does  not  now,  demand  of  its  incumbents 
any  compulsory  state  of  disciplinary  learning.  Its 
ranks  have  ever  been,  and  still  are,  carelessly  recruited 
from  every  condition  of  life ;  from  tutored  refinement 
to  illiterate  degradation.  And  thus  disorderly  inter- 
mingled, with  frictional  unnaturalness,  such  vainly 
labor  to  assimilate  their  opposite  moods  into  a  regu- 
lated quality  that  they  would  name — a  profession.  It 
is  an  utter  impossibility  under  such  a  laxity  of  any  at- 
tempt to  exact  a  condition  of  learned  qualification,  to 
ever  raise  the  theatre  to  the  dignity  of  a  profession. 
Schools  of  acting,  systems  of  training,  even  practical 
stage  experience,  brought  to  the  highest  state  of  pro- 


—11— 

ficiency,  cannot  in  themselves  alone  elevate  the  stage 
one  jot.  Its  incumbents  must  know  that  disciplinary 
preparation  which  furnishes  a  proper  qualification  to 
be  justly  recognized  and  unswervingly  upheld  by  the 
institution  that  requires  it.  Then  we  have  a  profession 
as  rightfully  claimed,  and  as  respectfully  viewed  as 
any  that  finds  its  inception  in  the  fostering  care  of  our 
learned  institutions. 

How  can  lasting  good  evolve  out  of  an  institution 
where  scarce  a  voice  from  within  ever  has,  or  does  sin- 
cerely say, — "Young  man,  young  woman,  enter  here; 
for  there  is  no  chosen  field  of  labor  that  can  so  earnest- 
ly entreat  your  highest  character,  honesty,  and  cul- 
ture !"  How  can  increasing  good  evolve  out  of  an  es- 
tablishment wherein  its  greatest  light,  enjoying  the 
cheering  sense  of  vast  remuneration,  public  applause, 
and  personal  gratification,  takes  up  his  pen  and  abhor- 
rently counsels  the  young  aspirant  (who  has  earnestly 
besought  his  advice)  to  seek  any  occupation  else  under 
the  sun  where  he  might  gain  a  bare  "living"  rather 
than  go  upon  the  stage  ?  Or  again, —  wherein  an  over- 
towering  intellect,  bequeathing  honored  distinction  to 
his  country  through  rare  idealism,  talent,  and  devo- 
tion to  his  art,  sighs  in  his  greatest  hour  that  he  had 
not  rather  directed  that  mental  force  towards  some 
vocation  truly  worthy?  Search  among  the  living  to- 
day! Hear — in  the  retirement  of  every  luxury — the 
wails  of  the  mightiest  histrionism  sorrowing  for  the 
sad  condition  of  the  noble  art  of  acting.  Read  (with 
rare  exception)  the  disparaging,  and  too  often  dis- 
couraging notes  sounded  from  our  "foremost  nota- 
bles "  to  the  graduates  of  dramatic  schools.  I  will  not 
go  on  indefinitely,  but  only  add  my  own  modest  decrial. 


—12— 

Before  I  entered  upon  a  career  of  professionalism 
(ardently  ambitious,  devotedly  serious,  and  studiously 
inclined)  not  one  voice  inside  or  outside  the  realms 
of  the  theatre  would  or  did  utter  a  sincere  word  of  en- 
couragement to  wisely  spur  me  on  to  such  a  rashness. 
Associating  and  studying  with  actors  justly  recog- 
nized and  famed  throughout  two  continents,  daily 
clerking  in  a  generally  considered  desirable  and  gen- 
teel business  among  gentlemen  highly  esteemed  and 
respected,  continually  seeking  and  being  sought  by  am- 
ateur dramatic  and  operatic  societies  of  acknowledged 
abilities,  notwithstanding,  never  did  I  find  a  voice  who 
dared  applaud  in  me  the  thoughts  of  a  stage  career. 
Inside  and  outside  the  theatre  world,  but  one  opinion 
in  general  was  held  of  that  institution  by  both  wise 
men  and  fools, — that  it  was  a  rotten  business.  I  did  not 
believe  it.  I  entered  this  state  of  reputed  histrionic 
putrefaction.  I  became  an  actor,  enduring  all  environ- 
ments which  voluntarily  unlocked  their  doors  to  me. 
Alas !  I  have  seen,  lived,  and  vindicated  the  truth 
of  all  such  admonitions.  My  unrestrained  apology 
lies  herein.  Friends, — you  were  right!  The  theatre 
is  a  rotten  business.  But  I  as  unrestrainedly  pro- 
claim that  I  do  not  believe  it  need  be  so,  and  that  with 
all  of  you  I  shall  hope  to  see,  live,  and  vindicate  in  the 
future  the  falsity  of  that  present  truth. 

Let  us  then  with  hope,  work,  and  patience  sow  the 
seeds  of  truth  and  beauty  that  shall  some  day  flower 
forth  in  such  abundance  as  to  cast  the  fatal  gloom  of 
quick  decay  on  these  weeds  of  falsity,  corruption,  and 
vulgar  show.  Unflinchingly  take  our  stand  and  just- 
ly fight  against  the  intrusion  of  ignorance,  dishonesty, 
and  pretence  into  the  domain  of  increasing  beauty. 
Let  it  not  be  a  common  mart  for  vulgar  trade !  A  cur- 


—13— 

tained  refuge  for  avaricious  exploitations  of  sensa- 
tionalism, scandal,  and  vulgar  notoriety.  Neither  a 
corrupt  exchange  where  monies  and  titles  of  unbal- 
anced impressionability  may  purchase  into  the  lime- 
light of  ill- repute  debasements  of  a  worthy  title,  to 
which,  although  they  hold  no  true  and  skilful  right, 
they  clamorously  claim  possession.  Nor  let  it  sink 
into  a  carnal  agency  to  furnish  lavish  idlers  with  ten- 
der toys,  and  so  crushing  the  hope  of  some  trusting 
heart,  destroying  all  faith,  affection,  sensitiveness ;  and 
perhaps  inflaming  them  to  such  jealousy  and  insanity 
that  might  lead  to  fatal  indiscretions  that  no  techni- 
cal legal  mastery  ought  atone  for. 

We  know  that  the  stage  will  never  be  free  from 
many  vicious  qualities,  besetting  evils;  all  professions 
however  honorable  in  their  highest  calling  possess 
them;  but  to  a  great  general  satisfaction,  methodical 
organism,  qualification,  and  the  establishing  of  a 
status — a  criterion  for  dramatic  art  through  higher 
education — would  rid  the  theatre  of  people  who  follow 
it  only  for  the  base  sensual  liking,  notoriety,  and  vul- 
gar business  ends;  people  who  all  too  soon  scoff  and 
sneer,  but  yet  remain  to  stagnate  its  higher  purposes. 

The  profession  of  the  theatre  and  the  ennobling 
art  of  acting  is  worth  such  pains,  or  otherwise  it  had 
rather  better  be  relegated  to  the  realms  of  oblivion, 
effaced  from  the  list  of  fine  arts  and  accomplishments, 
attainments  to  be  consummated  only  by  years  of  meth- 
odical preparation,  study,  and  finish  through  the  con- 
catenate mediums  and  essential  forces  of  higher  ed- 
ucation and  an  honest  strife  for  individual  suprem- 
acy. 

Today,  the  managers  and  agents  who  cockily  strut 
the  walks  of  the  "rialto,"  and  snugly  roost  in  the  dust 


—14— 

of  their  dingy  coops,  comprise  (with  very  few  excep- 
tions) a  mass  of  conspicuous  nothingness.  They  do 
not  deserve  the  smallest  consequence  of  success  or 
merit  in  their  depraved  estimate  and  ignorant  under- 
standing of  the  true  nobility  of  the  institution  they  oth- 
erwise vulgarly  appropriate,  and  the  art  they  profane- 
ly desecrate. 

As  to  the  horde  of  migratory  actors  who  swoop  from 
corner  to  corner,  from  agency  to  agency,  from  office 
to  office,  awaiting  the  chance  to  fight  for  the  solitary 
crumb  that  may  be  thrown  from  the  door  of  any  of 
the  well-stuffed  denizens,  for  them  I  say,  the  day  of 
unapt  championship  is  past.  The  generosity  of  the 
better  actor  to  readily  condone  for  and  shield  the  stub- 
born deficiencies  of  his  less  deserving  brother,  and  to 
ever  accord  him  an  estimation  thoroughly  amiss  to  a 
wilful  attitude  of  disregard  and  neglect  of  attempted 
attainment  to  the  proper  essentials  that  should  char- 
acterize a  man  pursuing  an  art  occupation,  such  mag- 
nanimity should  be  as  equally  and  positively  reversed 
to  an  earnest  endeavor  to  remove  from  the  march  of 
progress  such  stuffy  objectionableness.  Neither 
should  the  worthiest  of  the  stage  longer  sacrifice  at 
the  altar  of  jargon  controlment,  their  art,  manhood, 
and  independence. 

The  man  or  woman  who  at  some  time  finds,  that, 
in  remaining  longer  in  his  self-chosen  vocation,  he 
is  belittling  his  manhood  and  talents,  and  so  considers 
his  condition  a  mere  condescension,  and  consequent- 
ly forsakes  that  self-elected  occupation,  is  as  much  to 
be  censured  as  the  man  who,  in  still  abiding  conde- 
scension, does  not  lift  his  hand  or  voice  in  honest  en- 
deavor to  add  only  that  little  which  lies  within  the 
power  of  his  single  energy  to  better  the  general  condi- 


—15— 

tion  of  that  vocation  of  which  he  is  a  part.  And  if 
any  man  doing  this  much,  willingly  and  uncomplain- 
ingly enduring  all  the  dishonest,  ill-mannered,  and  il- 
literate abuse  of  the  sovereign  peasantry  that  rules  the 
theatre  in  America  today,  if  he  has  literally  been  turned 
from  its  every  avenue  of  traffic,  and  while  still  trying 
to  lend  devoted,  honest,  and  truthful  benefit  to  that 
chosen  highway,  it  still  is  within  his  possibility  to  open 
a  new  and  broader  avenue  if  he  does  not  fear  the 
anarchical  vulgar  hand  of  art  assassination. 

There  should  always  exist  in  equal  distinctive  rank, 
the  opera — grand,  romantic,  and  comic,  (permitting  of 
genuine  burlesque),  the  drama — tragedy,  romance, 
and  comedy  (including  genuine  farce),  and  the  vaude- 
ville— the  diverting,  wholesome  trivialties  of  stage 
entertainment.  Each  should  require  a  qualification  for 
the  practice  of  its  special  art.  Everything  aside  from 
these  would  then  naturally  be  forced  into  some  exclu- 
sive classification.  There  will  always  remain  the  char- 
latan, the  fakir,  and  the  audience  to  gape  at  him.  And 
it  behooves  the  State,  the  unitive  authority  over  all 
national  conditions,  to  promote  and  safeguard  that 
which  is  qualifiedly  worthy  from  the  ruthless  invasion 
and  contaminating  influence  of  that  which  is  endan- 
gering. The  force  of  such  directorship  will  not  be 
withheld  if  the  beneficence  of  the  institution  of  the 
theatre  is  purely  felt  in  an  honest  and  idealistic  strife 
of  special  individualism  towards  a  perfected  common 
unition. 

Show  beneficence  a  tangible  qualification  of  educa- 
tional import,  and  his  activity  will  bustle  in  the  wel- 
fare of  the  theatre  as  quickly  as  in  any  purpose  of 
dignified  worthiness. 


—16— 

I  believe  in  the  theatre !  I  love,  revere,  and  respect 
every  condition  of  it  that  tends  through  integrity  and 
decency  to  amuse,  persuade,  and  instruct  mankind; 
every  condition  that  strives  to  uplift,  correct,  and  guide 
the  higher  instincts.  But  when  these  conditions  do 
not  exist, — when  I  know  that  there  is  too  often  no 
special  effort  to  have  them  exist,  but  rather  a  spirit 
of  intentioned,  palpable  substitution  of  dishonesty  and 
questionable  propriety, — I  do  not  count  myself  disloyal 
to  that  institution  and  its  incumbents  in  honestly  and 
openly  saying,  that  under  such  conditions,  the  theatre 
has  not,  does  not,  nor  can  it  ever  truthfully  fulfill  to 
mankind  the  tremendous  possibilities  which  its  mis- 
sion foretells.  Neither  will  it  until  it  shall  itself  feel, 
and  transmit  to  worthy  judgment,  an  unmistaken 
sense  of  qualified  learning,  soundly  vibrating  through 
the  harmonious  cords  of  its  human  instrumentality, 
the  playwright — manager — actor,  the  profession  of  the 
theatre ! 


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